


the real world is where the monsters are

by ClaireWhy



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: (but there are references you'd only get if you read it), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Betrayal, Character Death, Complete, Crossover, Death, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hunger Games, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, No TOA spoilers, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Plot Twists, Pre-Hunger Games, Sharing Body Heat, Some characters are OOC, Violence, one winner, percabeth, posted on Wattpad under ClaireValdez, solangelo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 49,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22066075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaireWhy/pseuds/ClaireWhy
Summary: Piper can't wait to win. Annabeth plans to escape. Bianca is undercover. Travis is desperate. Percy is no killer. Leo has nothing back home. Calypso is a walking time bomb. Nico thinks he has no chance. And Bryce is out for blood.Twenty-four teens must fight to survive in a vicious free-for-all called the Hunger Games. Rick Riordan is Head Gamemaker, and he is determined to make this year the most dramatic and tragic yet.Only one tribute can be crowned the victor, and it's anybody's game to win or lose.—AU where the demigods are mortals in the Hunger Games
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace (minor)
Comments: 189
Kudos: 301





	1. Tributes

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy my story :)

**District 1 — Luxury Items**

Bryce Lawrence & Piper McLean

**District 2 — Masonry**

Charles Beckendorf & Clarisse La Rue

**District 3 — Technology**

Leo Valdez & Nyssa Barrera

**District 4 — Fishing**

Percy Jackson & Silena Beauregard

**District 5 — Power**

Jason Grace & Thalia Grace

**District 6 — Transportation**

Travis Stoll & Rachel Dare

**District 7 — Lumber**

Will Solace & Calypso Moonlace

**District 8 — Textile**

Luke Castellan & Annabeth Chase

**District 9 — Grain**

Octavian Augur & Meg McCaffrey

**District 10 — Livestock**

Frank Zhang & Hazel Levesque

**District 11 — Agriculture**

Ethan Nakamura & Bianca di Angelo

**District 12 — Coal**

Nico di Angelo & Katie Gardner


	2. Reaping Day

**District 1**

Piper heard that in other districts, people hardly volunteered. Unbelievable.

In Districts 1, 2, and 4 — where the Careers come from — this wasn't the case. There were so many willing participants that the escorts had to select the tributes from the pool of volunteers.

Her father, Tristan McLean, had told her that in the future there wouldn't be as many volunteers are there were now, though she didn't understand why.

Dad had won the Hunger Games years before she was born, and she was determined to follow in his footsteps and bring home the same amount of fame and glory that he had.

Plus, who _wouldn't_ want to go into the Arena to fight twenty-three other players to the death if you could have everything you ever wanted when you won?

The escort reached into the glass bowl of male names, then read in singsong. "Bryce Lawrence!"

An eighteen-year-old boy with pond scum green eyes and a devilish smirk whooped and ran up the stage. Personally, Piper didn't know him well, but she'd heard the rumours. The rumours of murder and torture and blackmail.

He'd be a valuable ally to have, though she had to be careful when the number of players narrowed and the Careers turned on each other.

Lawrence grabbed the microphone from the shocked escort and hollered, "Heck yes! I'll be winning, just you wait."

The escort snatched the mic back, pompously fixing his silver wig. "And now for the lady." He dipped his hand into the bowl and plucked out a piece of paper, unfolding it delicately. "Piper McLean."

Piper beamed with pleasant surprise, proudly making her way up to the stage. She stood beside Bryce, and, after she motioned for it, the escort grudgingly passed her the microphone.

"I'll win," Piper promised the cheering crowd. "I'll be like my dad, and return to District 1 with a crown on my head." She found her father among the people, but the expression on his face was not happiness.

It was fear.

◼▲◼

**District 2**

The female escort stuck her hand into the glass bowl of female volunteers, plucking out a name.

Clarisse held her breath. She was eighteen, and if she didn't get chosen now, her father would never forgive her. He had never gotten picked in his younger years, so he expected her to. She'd spent nearly all her allowance to get her name in the bowl as many times as she could. It was so expensive to have your name put in more than once.

If she didn't get chosen, she was going to run away.

"Clarisse La Rue."

Clarisse pumped her fist, her fear leaving her. "YEAHH!!" she leaped up onto the stage, bellowing war cries. She spotted her father in the crowd, waving and roaring with delight. And suddenly, everything was worth it.

The escort announced the male participant. "Harley Davidson."

Clarisse stared as a muscular twelve-year-old boy whose head barely came up to her chest came bounding up to them, cackling madly.

There was a groan of annoyance from District 2, which always happens when kids get chosen, and Clarisse tried not to cringe as she stood beside a kid who was surely going to his death.

◼▲◼

**District 3**

"Nyssa Barrera."

Leo's chest caved with sympathy. The tan brunette with the red bandana was terrified. She cast a pleading look to the girls around her, but they all turned away, quietly clearing a path for her.

She sighed and held her head up, marching up the stage. She stood scowling defiantly out at the crowd, her arms crossed.

Then the male tribute's name was called.

"Leo Valdez."

Immediately all eyes were on him, and he tried to grin but found that he couldn't. This was supposed to be the time when he'd say something dumb like "Cool! I love suffering!"

But he couldn't. He couldn't even say "I'll be back in no time," because that meant he'd outlive twenty-three other teens.

So he kept his mouth shut as he made his way to the stage, heart hammering. He decided it wasn't too bad. The district was probably better off without him anyway.

After all, he'd caused the fire that took his own mother's life.

◼▲◼

**District 4**

"Perseus Jackson."

Percy's heart stopped as if someone had closed a fist over it. The other civilians ogled at him with both wide-open mouths of awe and curled lips of contempt.

No, this was a good thing. He didn't understand why his palms were clammy or why he was suddenly so upset about it all. It was an honour to be in the Games, and he _had_ volunteered. Percy had been training for this all his life, and he was the best in the district with a sword.

The Hunger Games was a normal part of his world, so why had he felt something akin to dread?

As he took his place on the stage, he spotted his mom in the crowd.

Despite his assurances earlier in the day, she was weeping beside Smelly Gabe, his awful stepfather. Percy's heart wrenched, and he swore to himself that he'd try his best to win — so he could come back to her. She wouldn't have to live with the idiot anymore when he came home rich, and she would be so proud of him.

"Silena Beauregard."

Percy turned to see a beautiful girl with brown ringlets and ocean blue irises take to the stage, smiling and blowing kisses at the crowd.

And as the mayor began to read the Treaty of Treasons, Percy felt like he was freefalling into empty air, after making a choice that he could not take back.

◼▲◼

**District 5**

"Jason Grace."

Thalia caught her breath. Oh no, her baby brother was _not_ going into the Games. After their father had left them and their mother got so drunk she fell off a hydroelectric dam, Thalia had raised her brother. She'd only been nine when it all happened, but she remembered every precious moment with Jason, and her body went cold when she realized that it was all slipping through her fingers like glittering sand.

Her fifteen-year-old brother was tough, but in an Arena of twenty-three other tributes to face, she didn't think he stood a chance alone.

The escort had her manicured hand clutched around another slip of paper, but Thalia was already sprinting towards the stage. "I volunteer!" she shouted, voice thundering across the doomed silence.

The male escort made a small noise of faux interest, and threw the paper back into the bowl. "Oh joy. Bessie Taurus, you get a pass. Come on up, girl."

Thalia bravely stepped up onto the platform. "I'm Thalia Grace. Eighteen."

"Great," the escort said boredly. "Goodness, I hate this district. Mayor? You may read the Treaty."

"Thalia..." Jason spoke softly, but she could hear the fear and frustration in his tone. His hand found hers, and his grip was shaking, "Are you insane?"

She held his blue eyes boldly, with the same electricity as his, "One of us is making it out of the Games alive, and it's going to be _you._ "

It was a promise she was willing to die to keep.

◼▲◼

**District 6**

"Rachel Dare."

The crowd gasped as the name was called. Even the mayor's redheaded daughter was not free from the horror of the Games.

Travis watched her take a deep breath as she stalked onto the stage as if she owned it all, as if no Games were ever going to drag her down. On the stage, Mayor Dare gave her an almost pained look. Travis wondered if his wife had even bothered to show up at the Reaping, or was too busy ordering a new feather boa from the Capitol.

Then the next name was called.

"Travis Stoll."

He took a step back, his hand instinctively reaching to grab his younger brother's. Connor whipped his head around, staring at him with horror-filled eyes.

"Remember our deal," Travis hissed urgently, tightly gripping his brother's trembling hand, willing him to listen. "You do not volunteer for me. You take care of mom and dad, and I win the Games. Those are our jobs. Got it, Connor?"

Connor nodded feebly. "Y-yeah."

Travis wrapped him in a fierce hug, "Don't you dare worry, I got this."

◼▲◼

**District 7**

The female escort reached into the bowl, and the civilians went so quiet Will could hear the wind whistling through the tall trees.

"Calypso Moonlace."

Will felt the throng — himself included — murmur with pity. She was seventeen, and her past two boyfriends had already been killed off in the Games. And now she was going to join them. The sick Capitol was going to have fun with her for sure.

Calypso discreetly wiped her tears while the escort called the second tribute's name.

"Will Solace."

The citizens of the district shifted uneasily upon hearing the two words. Will knew why. He was growing up to be one of the best medics in the district, and someone they desperately needed in the lumber district, where accidents weren't uncommon.

But there were no volunteers. Will tried not to take it personally. Besides, he had a vast knowledge of healing, so hopefully, that granted him a fair chance of surviving. Hopefully.

The female escort cooed and condescendingly patted him on the cheek as he took his place beside Calypso, and eyed them both like they were statues outside the Justice Building. "We've got a pretty pair this time! As long as you're charming, maybe my district can get some more attention."

Will wanted to slap her fake nose off.

As the mayor delivered his droning speech, Calypso gave him a bitter smile. "So fate hasn't punished us enough."

◼▲◼

**District 8**

"Luke Castellan."

Annabeth's eyes widened in horror. Her best friend since she was seven years old was about to be ripped away from her. They'd had their whole future planned out — their escape, how they would live on the run, _everything_.

Luke walked up onto the stage, caught her eye, and had the gall to mouth "I'll be okay."

She shook her head, eyes burning with more than just pollution from the gray factories. This was unacceptable, but what could she do? Perhaps she could stow away on the train and get him off it —

"Annabeth Chase."

Her mouth fell open. The odds of this happening was minuscule. _Minuscule_. She'd calculated it herself.

But infinitesimal odds didn't mean an impossibility, and she steeled herself and stepped onto the rickety stage.

A wail sounded through the crowd, and she saw with amazement that it was her father. He was howling her name, while her stepmother tried to comfort him. She spotted her stepbrothers among the other boys, looking at each other with worry.

The Peacekeepers took out their weapons, and Frederick Chase abruptly quieted.

Annabeth gulped, holding back tears. There would be no weakness coming from her today.

As the mayor read out the Treaty, Luke faced her. He was a little taller than her, but Annabeth could clearly read the desperation in his cold blue eyes.

To calm him, Annabeth whispered in a low tone, "We're both getting out of this. I have a plan."

◼▲◼

**District 9**

"Margaret McCaffrey."

Meg stormed onto the stage. She may be short and twelve, but she had the guts of someone much older.

"It's _Meg!"_ she yelled into the crowd. "Not that anyone here cares."

The escort shot her an affronted look which she made a face at. She glared into the audience, but at the sight of her stepfather's angry stare, her fire quenched.

The second tribute from the grain district was a skinny eighteen-year-old platinum blond wearing a large purple jacket that had been patched many times. Octavian Augur.

"Nice blanket," she scoffed at him, folding her pudgy arms.

He ignored her comment, and just smiled genially. "Don't worry. As long as we work together, we'll figure something out."

She was loath to admit it, but Meg believed him.

◼▲◼

**District 10**

Frank Zhang was worried for his grandmother.

She'd never dare say so, but he knew she was afraid, and that she hated Reaping Day. It was a constant reminder of the loss of her daughter.

Frank's mother had won the Hunger Games a long time ago. It got them a nice house at the Victor's Village, and she'd married his father and had Frank, living happily for a few years.

Then Emily Zhang had refused to do something for the Capitol. And it had ended in her murder, with her husband mysteriously poisoned a day later.

"No one ever wins the Games," his grandmother had told him, eyes hard and unforgiving. "Even the ones who survive."

The female escort cheerfully called the male tribute's name.

"Frank Zhang."

Fear raced through his veins as he made his way to the dais. He found his grandmother standing near the front of the crowd. Her pinched mouth scolded him, _Stand up straight, Fai._

Hastily he straightened his back.

The next name was Hazel Levesque. Her wild brown curls had been carefully pinned back, and she wore a ragged pale blue dress.

He felt sick to his stomach. He'd had a crush on her for years, and now they were heading into the Arena together. It was a cruel twist of fate.

◼▲◼

**District 11**

"Maria Hesperide."

Ethan watched as the seventeen-year-old girl with olive skin and black hair tucked under a green cap made way towards the stage. He recognized her from school. She kept to a group of girls mostly, and there was dangerous talk that she wasn't from this district.

Another girl wearing a grey jacket — Zoë, he remembered vaguely — stopped her, and they shared a hug before she continued on her way.

He wondered if the Reapings were ever rigged. So many kids who were suspected of breaking the law seemed to get selected here.

The escort called the second tribute.

"Ethan Nakamura."

Honestly, he wasn't even surprised. He'd always had such rotten luck.

No one stopped him or called to him as he trudged to his place on the dais. Was it better or worse that nobody would care whether he lived or died?

◼▲◼

**District 12**

Nico started when he realized everyone was looking at him. He hadn't heard himself be called, but he hadn't been paying attention. He had been too eager to get back to the Hob so he could steal a little figurine he'd been admiring. Maybe when his sister came back he could give it to her.

The female tribute was already on stage. Katie Gardner, a sixteen-year-old girl he felt would be much better off in District 9 or 11 with the grain and crops than here. She playing with a small wild daisy, which he suspected she'd illegally picked from beyond the fence.

"Nico di Angelo?" a too-dressed up woman called out chirpily, peering into his crowd.

 _Wait_. They were looking at him because he'd been called. The boys parted for him, but he stood there frozen.

The fancy lady in a glittery ball gown beckoned him over. "Come on up, now. Don't be shy."

Nico felt his palms get damp as he went cold all over. His name had only ever been put in once, among hundreds of others, and he'd put in absolute naïve faith that he wouldn't be reaped. His feet moved forward, and in moments he was on the stage.

All he could think about was the amount of food the Capitol must have if their funds were simply spent on luxurious dresses like the escort's.

And while the Treaty was read and Katie gave him an absentminded handshake, he didn't hear or process a thing.

His hearing only kicked in when the escort spread her gloved hands and said something that only sounded cruel to him now.

" _And may the odds be ever in your favour_."


	3. Goodbyes

The tributes were marched into the Justice Buildings of their respective districts. All got locked into twenty-four waiting rooms, alone but waiting for visitors. Some had tried to escape in the past, and it is clear that it won't be happening this time.

◼▲◼

Tristan McLean came running through the door. Piper stood up to greet him, only for him to wrap her in a hug.

She gasped in surprise, "Dad! Easy, I'm not going to be gone forever."

He continued to hold her, and she let herself enjoy this rare moment. He was usually so busy with work at the Capitol, and sometimes he didn't even come home, leaving her to dine alone.

When he released her, she was dumbstruck to see the tears streaming down his face. "You don't think I'll win," she realized, heart sinking. " _Dad_ , I've been training —"

"It's not that," he cut her off, voice hoarse. "I think you have a great shot at winning. It's just...Piper, you're so beautiful and charming. The Capitol won't just let you come back."

Piper shook her head, "I don't understand. _You're_ here. We have a house at Victor's Village."

"No," he sank into a nearby armchair. "You don't need to know what they've done with me. I don't want you to die in the Arena...but—"

"Can you please explain?" Piper cried. "You're scaring me. What happened when you won?"

"It doesn't matter, it's nothing," he waved his hand, and suddenly he was filled with vigour. He sat forward, "Pipes, I want you to win. And whatever you decide to do afterwards, you do not need to take me into consideration. Do what you want with your life afterwards. You'll have all the money you could ever want. And I'll be proud. No matter what."

He embraced her again, but Piper wasn't quite sure what to think anymore.

◼▲◼

The door flew open with a bang, " _You volunteered yourself?!"_

Harley jumped to his feet, crossing his arms sassily. "Yeah, I did, _mom."_

His mother was advancing towards him, her husband close behind.

She bent down to eye level, shaking his shoulders. Her brown eyes were wide open and filled with terror. "What did I _tell_ you, Harley? You're twelve years old! I thought I told you if you wanted to enter that badly, wait until you're older!"

He shook himself out of her grip, "Then I'll have less of a chance of getting in!" He waited for his dad to back him up, but he just stared at him hopelessly.

She pulled him back, "You _also_ have less of a chance of surviving! Listen to me, Harley. This is _not_ a game! This is life or death!"

Harley tried to yank himself away again, but her grip was harsh. "Stop being ridiculous. You old people don't understand. The TV show is called the Hunger _Games_. Of course it's a game."

Shaking his head, his father whispered, "Please listen to your mother. You better take this seriously. This isn't like capture the flag or your three-legged races. You could die." His dad was one of the buffest guys in the district, but he was gentle and kind. But also annoying.

The twelve-year-old turned away, "I don't care what you think! When I win, I'll have my own mansion and I won't have to listen to you anymore." He stormed to the door and rapped on it, "Peacekeepers! Take them away!"

◼▲◼

His mother burst into the room, picking him up in a tight hug. "Oh _Percy_ ," she wailed.

"I'll be fine," he promised, patting her back. She hadn't supported his decision of volunteering, but he didn't see why, when it was what everyone did. "Hey Mom, please don't worry, okay? I'll fight my way back to you. We'll have a mansion at Victor's Village and Smelly Gabe can live in the shed."

She laughed, pulling away. But her smile died quickly, "Percy, I want you to promise me something."

His mother had done _everything_ for him. She was the kindest person he knew, so of course he would always do anything she asked of him. "Anything," he said readily.

"Don't kill anyone."

Whatever he thought he'd hear, it couldn't be farther than what she'd said. He could only stare, her words alien, "Not...kill anyone?" It went against the whole rule of the Games. If he didn't kill, he'd _be_ killed.

"Yes," she insisted. "Only if you... _really_ have to. I couldn't stand it if — if I knew that you had to kill someone in the Arena..." She broke down in tears, which she tried her best to keep in.

Percy touched her shoulder, "Okay, Mom. _Mom_. I promise, okay? I promise I won't kill anyone if I don't need to."

She nodded shakily, wiping a tear from her cheek. "Alright. Are you going to team with the other Careers?"

He wasn't sure what to answer. "I-I think so. It was my plan, since I'd have a better chance of surviving, but if you don't want me to..."

"No, do whatever you need to do," she murmured, covering her face. "But remember your promise. Please."

"I will," he vowed. "Will you be okay with Smelly Gabe?"

She laughed. "You don't have to worry about me." His mother gave him a kiss on the forehead, "I love you, Percy."

"Love you too, Mom."

◼▲◼

The second the Peacekeeper ushered his tearful parents out of the room, his brother Connor came rushing in.

They shared a long hug, in which Travis was the first to pull away. "Don't worry about me," he told Connor firmly, "you can't do anything, so there's no point in it."

Connor nodded, sniffing. "I got you something." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wide steel ring. It was simple and old, and had rubbed out words carved along the side. Travis didn't recognize it, so it must've been stolen.

"I got it from the market," Connor explained, confirming his suspicions. He dropped it into his waiting palm. "It can be your token. It doesn't mean anything, but..." he lowered his voice, "you could give someone a nasty punch with it."

Travis grinned, "Thanks, Con. Good thinking."

"Tell me you'll do anything to win," his brother demanded.

He hadn't said to _promise_ , because what did a promise mean anyway? It was just a word you used to get others to trust you.

"Of course I will."

And as Connor nodded, satisfied, Travis felt the line between morality and desperation blur even further.

When it was time for him to leave, Travis examined the ring he'd slipped on his hand. He still couldn't figure out what the words said, but it was just as well. It would sure match his personality.

◼▲◼

Luke paced the room, wondering if his mother would come to visit him.

She was his only remaining family member, after his dad had abandoned them by disappearing into the forest and never coming out again.

Luke had been nine years old.

And his mom hasn't been the same since. She'd gone insane, and she frequently had hallucinations and fits that terrified him. Although food would always be on the table, she would sometimes ignore him for days, like he didn't even exist. She'd scream and throw things at unpredictable times, and Luke often had to run to Annabeth's house in the middle of the night, dodging Peacekeepers, so she could tend to his wounds.

The only reason the Peacekeepers hadn't killed his mom was that she began obsessively weaving, as if working hard enough meant everything would be fixed. The number of times he'd come home to see a pile of newly knitted scarves was staggering.

Now that he was gone...

Luke clenched his fists. It didn't make much of a difference. He and Annabeth had planned to leave their families anyway. They were both a burden and weren't loved by them.

The door of the visiting room remained closed for the whole hour, and all he could feel was blind anger.

◼▲◼

Frederick Chase entered the room first. His salt and pepper hair suddenly appeared whiter than usual, and he came to an awkward stop in front of her. "Annabeth."

"Dad," she acknowledged. "Are...is she coming?" she asked, referring to her stepmother. Annabeth didn't it find it fair that she blamed her for her mother's actions.

"Yes, she's next and bringing Matthew and Bobby, but I wanted to see you alone."

She nodded, knowing what was coming. "You don't need to worry about me being gone. I think the boys are learning to weave fast enough, so they can earn some food too."

He shook his head, "Annabeth. I'm worried because you're going to the Games. I love you, you know that? When they called your name, I realized that I don't tell you that enough. You are not less important to me just because I married another woman and had two other children."

Annabeth felt tears prickle at her eyes, "I love you too, Dad. I'll try my best to come back."

His eyes grew stormy, though they weren't directed at her. He seemed to be angry at the Capitol. "And what about Luke?"

She couldn't tell him that she planned to get them both out. It was obvious that the Capitol had bugged the Justice Building and even the textile factories. That had to be how her mother's plans of rebellion had been discovered, and why she'd been executed.

"Whatever happens," Annabeth said slowly, picking her words carefully, "we'll fight for each other until the end."

"You are so much like your mother," he said quietly, touching her cheek. "You are incredible, just like her. If you come back home after this, I wouldn't be surprised at all."

◼▲◼

Bianca waited for visitors, nervously clutching her hat in her hands. This hadn't been part of the plan. She'd only taken on the false identity of Zoë's dead sister so she could get supplies from District 11 without being asked too many questions, and now she'd been reaped.

And Nico...how was she supposed to go back to her little brother? He didn't even know what happened to her after she'd left. Would he even recognize her on the television?

She looked up when Zoë came marching into the room, long dark hair flowing out behind her. Bianca always thought she resembled an ancient princess.

"I'll be rooting for you, Maria," Zoë said, and she hugged her close. Then she was whispering, her mouth covered by Bianca's hair. "Don't worry about us. We've almost gathered enough supplies to go get your brother. When I'm gone, people will assume I died from starvation, especially with all focus on the Games."

"I don't want to go into the Arena," Bianca mumbled.

"We can't get you out," Zoë said sadly. "Peacekeepers here are too strict." She released her, giving her a meaningful look. "Try your best to win, alright? Then we shall meet again, in the place that we first met."

 _The forest between District 11 and 12_ , Bianca remembered. "Definitely."

Zoë pulled a metal clip from her hair, and pressed it into Bianca's thin hand, curling her fingers around it. "I don't have much to give you, but perhaps you can use this to think of me and the others." She smiled sadly. "Good luck, sister."

◼▲◼

Nico lay back in his comfy velvet armchair, still in shock at the day's events. He hadn't expected anyone to visit him, so when the door opened he resigned himself to get taken away to the Capitol.

It wasn't a Peacekeeper, but it was a lady from the Hob, a young woman with long tangled dark hair that curled down her back. Her face was beautiful but deathly pale and gaunt.

"I am Persephone," she said formally, bowing her head slightly. "I'm from the Hob, and I've seen you admiring this trinket for a while." She held out a thin frail hand, and in it sat the statuette of a stern man with dark robes made of what looked like human souls. Even though he was tiny, he seemed to give off a powerful aura, unlike himself.

It was the figurine he'd wanted to steal.

Nico shook his head, guilty at the thought of even touching it, "What...are you giving it to me?" He wasn't used to this. People in District 12 didn't give something to a stranger for nothing in return. Otherwise, everyone would starve to death.

Generosity didn't fill empty stomachs.

"You are going into the Games," she murmured, voice tinged with pity. Normally Nico hated pity, but he hadn't known kindness in a long time, so he treated her words like a rare treasure unearthed.

Persephone reached out to stroke his matted hair, and to his surprise he let her. "You are so young. You have no family, so I'd like you to have at least something. Do not despair. I know you don't know me at all, but trust me when I say that I hope you win."

She held out the token, and he took it.

"Thank you."


	4. Opening Ceremonies

Rick Riordan waited for the twelve chariots to begin filling the loop of the City Circle from the lower balcony of the president's grand teal mansion.

He fixed his graying hair, then adjusted the grey wool suit he had on over a pastel blue button-up shirt he had an Avox iron twice.

On the buildings that surrounded the Circle, every window was packed with the most prestigious citizens of the Capitol. The president was above him, standing on a smaller balcony. He looked up at her and grinned, waving.

President Clair was a fairly short woman in her thirties, but she made up for her height with a keen eye, a cruel smile, and long hair professionally dyed a shade darker than black. She scowled down at him, and her indigo-painted fingernails clawed at the mahogany railing.

The Head Gamemaker smiled to himself. He knew he was a threat to her. She constantly drilled on and on about he pandered too much to the Capitol, and placed too much focus on turning the Hunger Games into some kind of "teen drama" instead of a way to keep Panem in line.

What a bore. The music began, and he and the other Gamemakers straightened.

He saw District 1 first. Always flashy, the two tributes — Bryce and Piper — were fitted with clothes covered in sparkling white gems. Both wore crowns on their heads. A bold move, as the crowns greatly resembled the one given to the winner. The two were beaming and waving at the roaring crowd, already favourites.

District 2 was impressive. Strong brown horses pulled a gilded bronze chariot, and Harley and Clarisse sported polished gold armour with silver accents. Riordan suspected that even the kid had a good chance at winning.

The citizens suddenly exploded into wild cheering. Riordan tore his eyes away to see District 3's mechanical horses pull a chariot that was — what was the word? — holographic. Nyssa and Leo appeared to be standing on platforms of glowing white energy. Their outfits were made to give them the impression of cyborgs from those ancient sci-fi movies. The boy was bouncing up and down and whooping, seeming to be having the time of his life.

Riordan could practically see President Clair's fingers twitching. He suspected that the two tributes had been heavily involved in the creation of their chariot. With that kind of new technology, the Arena wouldn't have to be built with a massive bothersome wall surrounding it.

A "force field"...that would be very useful indeed.

He was so distracted that he almost didn't notice District 4. Horses bearing fins, and a mother-of-pearl chariot. Perseus and Silena were dressed as a merman and mermaid, with glittering scales covering their lower bodies. The boy twirled a bronze trident. Silena had a gold net thrown over her shoulders, and a brassiere of brightly-coloured seashells.

The Head leaned forward with curiosity. Both of them did not seem genuinely happy. Unusual for tributes from a Career district. Making them kill someone would be fun to see.

The Power district had a chariot racing with what looked like live electricity, pulled by horses dyed a deep blue. Riordan regarded them with peaked interest. This was the first time two siblings were entering the Games together. Both had on determined expressions, their costumes simple blue suits with white outlines.

District 6 was nothing unique. Travis and Rachel sat in a chariot shaped like a compact open-roofed car, like the last three years. Both were staring out into the crowd, apparently dazzled by the wild eccentricities of the Capitol citizens.

Travis was throwing winks at particular people in the crowd, one being a woman wearing a fluffy grey dress that took up her entire glass balcony.

He was already searching for sponsors, and being very personal about it, in a way that couldn't be ignored by the recipient.

Riordan nodded. He'd have to keep an eye on that one.

District 7 he barely spared a glance at. Will and Calypso were dressed as trees, and neither was very happy about it.

District 8 had a chariot covered in an intricately patterned cloth. Luke and Annabeth were wrapped in shawls of multi-coloured fabric. Their good looks instantly won the Capitol's favour, and Annabeth flashed a confident smile.

Being from the textile district, he wanted to bet that they wouldn't last a day, but there was a calculating glint in the girl's grey eyes that very much resembled President Clair's.

He resisted a yawn upon seeing the grain district. Robes made of wheat were so drab, and Margaret and Octavian's facial expressions showed their clear discomfort. They'd be killed off in the bloodbath for sure.

The tributes from the livestock district had fur coats on, and silently he laughed to himself. As if the citizens there could keep any of the furs they took from their animals.

Frank and Hazel, he observed, were standing much closer together than the others, except perhaps the Grace siblings. _Star-crossed lovers?_ he thought excitedly.

Ethan and Maria from District 11 wore boring farmer's clothes, though he noticed that the girl glanced behind herself much too often.

Riordan immediately turned his gaze to District 12. Coal miner uniforms again; they really needed to hire new stylists. Katie anxiously stared at the crowd, while Nico's attention was on the chariot in front of him.

 _Do Maria and Nico know each other?_ the Head thought, _but that is impossible..._

The music ended with a flourish, and all cameras turned to President Clair as she moved to deliver the official welcome.

"We welcome you," she smiled with unnaturally perfect teeth and makeup. "We salute your courage and your sacrifice."

Riordan scanned the faces of each and every one of the tributes. Yes, this would be an interesting Games. He couldn't wait.

The president reached the end of her speech, "We wish you all a happy 24th Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour."


	5. Training Days P1

Leo took in the diverse stations designed to prepare tributes for their battle to the death. Nyssa was next to him, and eyeing the snares station, he asked which one they should go to first.

To his dismay, Nyssa shook her head, "No offence Leo, but I'm not interested in an alliance."

Leo shoved his hands in his pockets awkwardly. He hadn't expected to be rejected. "Oh. Okay. Can I ask why? Am I too intimidating or...?"

She didn't even crack a smile, "No, joker boy. Alliances can only end with one dying or both. So what's the point? I'm not winning anyway."

He was stunned by her despair, "But if we work together, we could stand a chance. We made a freaking energy chariot together! I swear President Clair even stared at us a few seconds more than the others."

Nyssa shook her head, and some of her dark hair got loose from her red bandanna. "I'm sorry. I don't know if you can tell, but I've lost all hope already. You don't want to work with someone like that. It'd be like a curse." And before he could argue further, she walked away.

And to the weight-lifting station too, which he took as a personal insult since he'd once pulled a muscle while carrying a computer.

◼▲◼

"Do you want a four-way alliance?" Annabeth asked boldly.

The siblings swivelled to look her and Luke over. She remembered their names as Thalia and Jason from the recap of the reapings that she'd had to watch on the train ride. A sister volunteering to be with her brother seemed like a good sign to her.

Thalia frowned, "And what are we supposed to do when it's just us four?"

"It's not going to come down to that," Annabeth promised. "We'll break it off after, say, a week. And even if we're last, we'll avoid each other and see how the Gamemakers pick us off."

Thalia considered this, "That's pretty grim, but I guess it works. Are you in, Jason?"

Jason nodded, "Yeah, of course. What are your names?"

Annabeth introduced herself and Luke, and Thalia inclined her head in greeting. "I'm Thalia, and this is Jason. Why us, by the way?"

Luke answered, "The moment she saw you volunteer, she knew you were good people and wanted you on our team." Then he added, nudging Annabeth, "An alliance is a good plan, and she always has a plan. That's the one thing I can count on."

She blushed, "Stop it."

Jason pushed up his glasses, "So, Annabeth, what's your master plan?"

She smiled, leaning conspiratorially close, "Easy. Tomorrow Luke's going to join the Careers."

◼▲◼

"We should form an alliance," Rachel said, matter-of-fact.

Travis considered her merits. She was resilient and brave, and he was willing to bet she'd be great at camouflage. Also, she'd probably get gifts from their district in the Arena since her father was the mayor —

Right, she was the daughter of Mayor Dare.

What would it look like if he came home with her blood on his hands?

"Sorry, I'm going to have to say no. I know you're tough, but I want to get someone from a different district so we can bring more skills to the table."

Rachel scrutinized every part of his face. It made him feel like a defective car being disassembled, and he was quite certain she knew he was lying. "Fine," she said bitterly. "Have it your way."

Travis just nodded, and walked off to the ropes course, where he spent some time climbing back and forth, watching the other tributes. The girl from 8 was scaling along with him. He considered asking her to be his ally, then realized she already had some — the other tribute from 8 and the two from 5.

She was too sharp anyway. It unnerved him.

A boy with curly hair from 3 was twisting ropes and sticks together to make a snare for catching small animals. He clearly hadn't made one before, as he paid careful attention to what the trainer did, but he caught on fast. He had clever fingers, and was probably intelligent too, since he was from the technology district where education must have a bigger role.

Travis slipped off the ropes and went to his side, "Hey, I'm Travis from 6."

The boy raised his head, fingers still moving like clockwork. "Leo."

"Interested in an alliance?"

He grinned gratefully, "Since Nyssa blew me off, I'm very interested."

"We should make sure to try different stations," Travis proposed. "Then we'd have more skills combined that we can later teach each other."

Leo finished up his snare, "That makes sense."

"We should both do shelter-making next though. Then we can learn a bit about each other while we work."

Leo stood up, examining his hands, which had parts turned pink from the rough string he'd been using. "Alright, let's go."

◼▲◼

Upon arriving at the training room, the first thing Nico did was find his sister.

She rushed towards him, and they stopped a foot apart, searching each other's faces. Bianca's face was much tanner, and her hair was braided back now, but it was her. "It _is_ you," Nico whispered. He couldn't believe it.

Bianca led him to the corner, where they were more hidden from the watchful eyes of the purple-robed Gamemakers on the elevated stands surrounding the gymnasium. Tears filled her eyes as Bianca whispered, "Nico, oh Nico, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to leave you, but I planned to go back to get you, I swear."

Nico nodded, too happy to ever blame her for anything, "It's okay, I know. I believe you." The day Bianca had run away, they only had enough spare food to last one person a week, so it was decided that he would stay behind and wait for her return. "What's it like in District Eleven?"

She shook her head, "Horrible. Completely not what we expected. Even though they grow the food, they can't eat it. They starve just as much as we do, and their punishments are so much more severe." She lowered her voice further, explaining how she'd met a group of kids in the forest, and how she'd taken on a fake identity.

Nico stared at her in awe, "I'm so glad you're okay. I mean, for now."

She laughed, stroking his hair, "Enough about me, what about you?"

"I stole what I could from the richer areas," Nico said, shrugging. "And...here." He pulled the figurine from his pocket. "A lady from the Hob gave it to me, because she saw me admiring it a lot. I'm not sure who it's supposed to be, but I think it looks...kind of like dad."

He figured he was maybe too old to feel so strongly about a toy — he was fourteen — but Bianca never judged him.

She took it, examining it. Bianca smiled, giving it back, "It really does. Hold on to it, okay?"

◼▲◼

On the second day of training, Percy watched his teammates chuck weapons at dummies, claiming he was tired. Clarisse and Silena were getting along well, and they continually hit the targets dead on with their spears. Piper threw knife after knife, all sinking into her dummy's head until it resembled a porcupine.

Bryce and Harley chopped into a row of dummies. The boy from 1 seemed very entertained by the young tribute. He asked him various trivia questions about the previous twenty-three Games, and Harley knew the answers to them all.

"Who won the 11th Games?" Bryce quizzed, slamming an axe into a dummy's chest. Percy personally thought his choice of weapon was a little impractical, but it fit his showy and sadistic personality.

"Mags!" Harley answered instantly, grinning with all his teeth, bright as his spiked mace.

Bryce laughed loudly. "Impressive! Kid, you are such a fanboy. I don't think I'd like killing you if it comes."

Piper snorted, yanking a knife out of her dummy's skull. "Because _I'm_ going to kill you."

"No way," he argued, gesturing with his axe. "I'll be off way before any of us start to turn on each other. I'll slit all your throats in your sleep! How about that?"

"Not if I slit yours first," Clarisse shot back, waving her spear with a smirk on her face.

Silena scoffed. "Oh please, Bryce, all you've done is make sure you're never keeping watch. In fact, if I was on guard I'd be sure to slaughter you first."

"Of course I didn't mean any of it!" Bryce smiled genially, but unconvincingly so. "I love all of you guys like my own family."

"Pretty sure you _killed_ your family," Piper sneered, twirling a throwing knife between her fingers.

He looked shocked. "Uh, I so did _not!_ Don't even say that."

"What about you, Percy?" Silena asked, and goosebumps rose over his skin. "Which one of us would you kill first?"

He coughed delicately, trying to buy himself time. What kind of stupid morbid debate was this anyway? "I wouldn't like to take on any of you, actually."

Bryce cracked up, reaching out to ruffle his black hair that his stylist had spent ages fixing. "Man, you have zero confidence. Refreshing."

"I don't think I want to fight any of you either," Harley said, frowning worriedly.

Bryce rolled his eyes with blatant annoyance, "Well, kid, it's what you signed up for."

Their attention was ripped away at the sound of a blade shearing through a dummy.

The head of the plastic figure slid to the ground, and the blond boy from 8 stood behind it, casually swinging a steel sword.

Clarisse stared at him in shock, "Where you'd learn to do that in the _textile_ district?"

"Hmm?" he asked, like he'd just become aware of their presence. "Oh, since I failed at weaving, I was in charge of testing the Peacekeeper uniforms. Making sure they were versatile and stitched correctly and all that. I got to swing batons."

Clarisse scratched her head with the hand holding her spear, her eyes narrowed with suspicion, "That's...convenient."

He nodded, "I'm Luke, by the way. I noticed that you don't have a sword-fighter on your team. I could join you guys."

Silena pointed at Percy, "He's one, actually. He's really good, just tired today."

"Tired, huh?" Luke smirked at him, and he was almost angry, too, like Percy had stolen something from him. Percy didn't like that face, but Silena seemed to be smitten. "Good luck being 'tired' in the Arena."

Percy grit his teeth, wanting to take the bait but knowing he shouldn't, for the sake of his mom.

To his surprise, Piper came to his defence, "Your stance was still wrong, Luke. We're not recruiting you just because you got muscles and can swing a sword. The rest of us combined have experience with _all_ weapons. This is exclusive to only districts 1, 2, and 4 for a reason." She flicked a knife so it landed between his feet, the tip of it sunk into the rubber floor. "So beat it."

"Hey," Silena protested weakly, and they all looked at her, Clarisse particularly attentive. "It's always great to have another ally."

"Right you are," Luke said, winking at her. "Plus, unlike all of you who've learned how to throw things at dummies, I've been learning about other districts. When my people need to make clothes for all of Panem, it's sort of hard not to pick up a few things."

Percy wasn't sure how true any of Luke's words were, but his teammates seemed convinced. Clarisse sighed, "Fine. I guess that could help us."

Harley stared at Piper's blade with an unreadable expression, "I'm okay with it."

"Alright," Piper nodded, eyeing Luke distrustfully, "but you better stay in line and do what we say."

His cheeks dimpled, "Of course. You're the experts, after all."

Bryce looked flattered, and he patted Luke hard on the back. "The votes have been cast! Welcome to the Careers."

No one had asked for Percy's input, but then, he'd already been replaced.

◼▲◼

"How did it go?" Annabeth asked anxiously. Luke had been training with the Careers all day, and she hadn't had a chance to talk to him again until they'd snuck up to the roof of the Training Center, where the winds masked their voices.

"I'm definitely in. My sword skills are rusty, but I got lucky when that Percy boy refused to practice and I looked good in comparison." He chuckled. "I had to use every last persuasive point you gave me."

Annabeth flushed with pride. "I'm glad they worked."

Luke's expression became serious. "So there's absolutely no way of escaping before the Games?"

She rubbed her face, having already gone through all she'd tried in her head a dozen times. "With enough makeup, a Capitol citizen wouldn't recognize us, but security here is too tight. Climbing down the side of the building is dangerous and a definite way for someone to see us. There are microphones everywhere. Ventilation shafts are electronically locked. Windows can't be broken even with a fire extinguisher. Every guard is armed. Every servant cannot disobey."

"Hey," Luke stopped her rambles, "listen, we'll find a way out. We have until they put a tracker in our arm, and even then, we could always cut it out."

Annabeth nodded, sighing. "I really hate the Capitol. And did you see the Head Gamemaker? He was eyeing us all like it was all a play, and we were actors with slave contracts and he was the director."

The sat in silence for a while under the night sky, watching the city of the Capitol, which was both dark and bright at the same time, so unlike the smog-filled scenery of their home. Luke turned to her, "You know, whatever happens, we won't let the Capitol break our spirits. We'll stay the same Luke and Annabeth we were before."

She cracked a smile. "I don't think that's possible, but it's a nice thought."

"We're family," he insisted. "And we'll stay that way."

She looked at him. "Promise?"

"Promise."

As they stood up to return to their room, Annabeth spotted something at the other end of the roof. "Is that...?"

She briskly walked to what seemed to be a white sheet of paper, a stark contrast to the dark grey of the building.

Luke came to her side. "Oh no..."

He picked it up with a shaking hand, and Annabeth, already knowing what it was, peered over the side of the roof. There was a black net strung a story down, but it had been cut open, leaving a gaping hole into the streets below.

Luke wordlessly gave her the paper. It was a note scrawled on a fancy napkin.

_This isn't what I thought it would be like. Please tell my parents that I'm very very sorry, and that I do love them.  
_

_\- Harley_


	6. Training Days P2

It was the last day of training. The girl from 7 was stitching two pieces of fabric together with a speed that stunned Leo. And when she finished, she began to weave vines together, forming a tough rope.

He watched for a while, then surveyed his own mess of moss. He'd managed to twist them together, but they weren't very attractive. Or sturdy, for that matter.

"You're pretty good," he blurted out.

Her dark almond-shaped eyes scrutinized him critically, and then she went back to work. "Thanks."

It didn't seem like she wanted to associate with a charbroiled runt like him, but he pressed on, "Could you teach me?"

She tossed her head at the trainer, "You can ask him."

"I think he's tired of me. I'm Leo, by the way."

"Calypso. If I teach you, you should teach me something in return."

"Sure." He scanned around at the other stations, trying to spy one he might be good at. Of course, there was his invention of the force field, but that would hardly be useful in the Games, where there'd be none of the necessary materials. It was highly unreliable, anyway. Sometimes he ended up making the kind that throws you back or shocks you to death.

Finally, his eyes landed on the fire-starting station. He gulped, "I'm pretty good at...starting fires."

She rolled her eyes, "So am I. I'm from the lumber district." And seeing him spot the shelter-making station, she added, "I can build shelters too. _And_ furniture."

"Furniture?" Leo snorted. "What good is a dining table in the Arena?"

Calypso gave him the evil eye.

He coughed, "Right, more than I'm capable of understanding. I guess I can't teach you many skills, but I do have an...idea of sorts. It's a guaranteed way of eliminating someone, but it's not smart. It's a bit brutal, and the Gamemakers wouldn't like it."

At his last words, Calypso's face brightened with reckless abandon. "What is it?"

He reluctantly told her, and she smirked devilishly. "I see. Thank you very much."

Leo stared at her worriedly, regretting telling her already. "I uh, _really_ don't think you should do it."

She laughed, "I don't care about the Capitol. They've been cruel enough to me and everyone else, so I might as well throw this in their faces. Now let's work on your weaving skills."

◼▲◼

Frank struggled through the edible plants station with Hazel sitting cross-legged beside him. They'd become allies instantly, without even having to agree on it verbally. She knew him from school, and said he was nice, so she trusted him.

"Is this one hemlock?" he fretted, examining a small pot with little white flowers growing in it.

Hazel took a hard look at it, "It...could be. It could also be Queen Anne's Lace."

"That one's harmless, but hemlock's deadly poisonous," Frank pointed out.

"Can we even eat Queen Anne's Lace?" Hazel frowned. "Otherwise we can just ignore both, right?"

"I think we can eat it," Frank answered. "We can probably eat any plant that isn't poisonous, honestly."

Hazel sighed. "I wouldn't know, since I kill every plant I tried to grow."

Frank hadn't known she'd tried gardening, and the information made him feel like he should protect her even more.

The trainer eventually informed them that Frank was indeed holding hemlock. He put it back quickly. They spent some time learning the difference between a wild sweet pea and a wild potato.

"What do you think happened to Harley?" she asked suddenly.

He cast an uneasy glimpse at the trainer, but he was busy humming and arranging flowers. Frank shrugged helplessly. "My mentors said it was an accident."

She eyed him critically. "Do you believe them?"

"No," he admitted.

They both observed the Careers, who yesterday had been joined by the boy from 8. And in place of the young boy from 2 was a tall and buff teenager that could probably smash through bricks with a finger. He didn't seem very enthusiastic as he idly swung a sword through the air.

Hazel pretended to read a vegetable label. "I keep getting the feeling that he...killed himself." She whispered the last thought. "He was...kind of stunned yesterday."

Frank stared at her in shock. It was an awful thought, but he supposed it held some merit. A boy so young must've been horrified to see what the Games were really like.

"Everyone's so young," Hazel said miserably. "How can anyone even kill each other?" They watched the other tributes. The short girl from the grain district was kicking a dummy with unusual savagery, and the boy from 12 was watching the girl from 11 shoot a bow. It was evident that she was an expert. He wondered how she'd learned if she was supposed to be from the agriculture district.

"You'd probably be good at archery," Hazel said, to his surprise.

He was bewildered. "Why?" Most people said he should do close combat, due to his strength.

She shrugged. "You're patient."

Frank considered this, watching the girl from 11 continuously hit the target. "I don't want to kill anyone though."

"Yeah..." Hazel murmured, "neither of us was a butcher back in 10, but at least you have a shot at winning."

"No, I don't."

She looked amused. "Of course you do, unlike _me_. What can I do?"

"I think you're brave."

She glanced down shyly. "Yeah? And what does that do?"

"I..." Frank struggled to word it correctly, "I just think that if you're determined to win, you have a very good chance."

Hazel was obviously flattered. "That's nice of you. Thank you. And just because you're a big teddy bear doesn't mean you can't win either." Then she leaned against him, smiling faintly.

◼▲◼

Nico felt a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to see the freckled blond boy from 7, who asked, "Hey, are you two partners?"

He nodded uncertainly. "Yeah."

"Can I...join?" he ducked his head like he expected to be turned away.

Nico inspected him. The guy honestly looked really nice. "Yeah, I guess," he answered. His sister was busy shooting at stuffed pigeons the trainer was tossing in the air, so he said for her, "I'm sure she's okay with it."

The boy sighed gratefully, "Thanks. You're Nico, right? I kind of remember you from the reaping recap."

Nico blinked. Did this guy now expect him to know _his_ name? "Yeah, I'm Nico. That's Maria."

"I'm Will." Nico noticed vaguely that the guy's stylists had done a good job cleaning his teeth.

"Okay. Um, why didn't you team with your district partner?"

Will curved a golden eyebrow. "Do you see her? I mean, she's a nice person and all, but a little crazy. She said something about not wanting me to take the fall for what she plans on doing."

Nico's eyes found the girl from 7 weaving something small while assisting another boy with his curious creation. She didn't seem particularly dangerous or crazy, but appearances were deceiving.

Will watched Bianca shoot for a few seconds. "How is she that good? Isn't she from 11?"

Mind racing, Nico tried to come up with an explanation. Agriculture...there is literally no reason to know how to shoot in that district. "Maria?" he asked, hoping his older sister, who'd always protected him, would know what to do.

Bianca lowered her bow. "I-I'm just a quick learner."

Will stared at them both, likely sensing that there was much more he didn't know. The Gamemakers were watching them now, and Bianca slowly put the bow back onto its stand. And now that she was paying attention, she peered at Will suspiciously.

Nico started to wonder if he'd made the right decision at all.

◼▲◼

Calypso was by herself again. She ambled to the edible plants station, where the two tributes from 9 were.

She remembered the girl's name as Meg, and right now the 12-year-old was kicking at a pot of flowers. "Hey, Octavian. The Capitol has dumb outfits."

Her blond district partner looked annoyed. "Right."

Though Calypso agreed wholeheartedly, she didn't want to listen to their conversation so she wandered to the next station: first aid.

She busied herself with learning to make a sling for a broken arm when the boy from 9's voice rose to a holler.

" _Listen_ to me you tiny brat," he snarled, harshly pushing Meg to the floor. "I don't care about your little rants. Why can't you just behave? You think acting like a spoiled hellion will get us sponsors? If you don't stop kicking things I swear to President Clair that I will _pulverize_ you in the Arena."

Meg's face was pale and haughty, but before she could respond Calypso came between the two. "Hey, stop it!"

Octavian whirled to her, "Stay out of this."

"Yeah," Meg spoke up from the ground, folding her arms. She had a grimy pair of glasses on, even though it was one the stylists had given her only days earlier. " _I_ can deal with him."

Calypso scowled murderously at Octavian. She had a seriously bad feeling about him, but she nodded. "Fine. If you say so."

◼▲◼

"Why did you want to see me?" Silena asked.

It was past dinner time, the day before the private training sessions, and Luke had taken the stairs up to the roof to find Silena waiting for him. Earlier he'd asked her to meet him here, and he was glad she'd complied.

He went up to her, turning up his charm. "I want to ask you for a favour. I don't think anyone else would understand."

The Career frowned. Her blue eyes reflected the city lights and were narrowed with suspicion. "What's the favour?"

Luke braced himself, knowing this was going to be a huge risk. "I decided that I don't want to work with the Careers."

"What?" she sounded incredulous. "For what reason?"

"I don't trust any of them."

She crossed her arms, "Yet you're here with me."

Luke stepped forward and took her hand, "Because I trust _you._ You seem genuine and, I don't know, decent."

"Oh," she pulled her hand back, but she was blushing. "That's nice of you to say."

 _Thank goodness_ , Luke thought, _Annabeth was right. She really is not like the usual Careers._

He made his hands fidget. "So what I wanted to ask you was...could you help me get away from them in the Games?"

Silena faltered as she spoke, "What...would I do, exactly?"

"Once the Careers start hunting, some of us need to stay behind to guard the Cornucopia. It could be you and me. I'll take some supplies, and run off by myself. So all you have to do is be the one who remains with me, and you know, don't chase me down. Maybe point the others in the wrong direction when they come back."

"And I'm supposed to just do that?" she demanded. "When the others return, they'd know I helped you."

"Tell them I bolted before you could even see me. They all agreed to let me join; they can't pin it all on you."

Silena brushed her hair back, turning away. "It sounds risky. Not for you, but for me. Why should I do it? It was your mistake to team with us."

Luke shrugged. "I'm just asking, but I'd really appreciate it if you did it."

She shut her eyes, "Fine." She glared at him, "I like you, Luke, so I'll help you."

He nodded, giving her a disarming smile, "Thank you so much. You know, if I don't, I do hope that you'll win." _Lies lies lies._

The Career looked angry with herself, like she knew she was being manipulated and was going to regret it. "For the record, Luke, Percy's still a better sword-fighter."

At this, she stalked away, flung open the door, and disappeared inside.

Luke scowled. Annabeth had said Percy might agree to his plan, too, but he didn't like the guy, for reasons he didn't care to figure out.

It was a good thing Silena had been persuaded. He'd been afraid that she'd started getting attached to Beckendorf, but apparently, it wasn't the case.

He strode to the edge of the roof and took a look over the side. There was no longer a net, but empty air. Confused and curious, he took off one of his shoes and dropped it.

A second later it came flying back into his hand.


	7. Interviews

"A second reaping was held in District 2, is that correct?" Lester Apollo asked. "This time there were no volunteers."

"That's right," Beckendorf nodded. "There wasn't time to ask for volunteers again, since the process can get pretty complicated, especially in my district."

Apollo sat forward, his golden hair sprinkling glitter when he moved. "Did you volunteer in the first reaping?"

He shook his head. "No."

"So how did you feel?"

Beckendorf shrugged. "Not great. I've been training for the Games just like the others, but I'm not much of a fighter. I just like building and making things."

Lester patted his shoulder, "Those skills can still be useful in the Games, too." He grinned, flashing unnaturally perfect teeth, "Perhaps we're better off with you than little Harley. A tragic accident — he really missed out, didn't he?"

"Uh, yeah." Beckendorf was outwardly agreeing with the host's words, but he couldn't help wondering just what exactly the 'accident' _was_ , but he and the other Careers were never given a straight answer. He'd overheard his mentors whispering about not wanting to 'give the other tributes any ideas,' but he wasn't quite sure what that meant.

Either way, he believed Harley had escaped, not missed out.

◼▲◼

Piper had been dangerous and gorgeous. Bryce had been vicious and brutal. Beckendorf was burly and quiet. Clarisse was tough as nails.

Silena wondered what she would be.

She sat as primly and delicately as she could in the chair. Harley had hardly been mentioned, so that was one tough subject avoided. She smoothed her long shimmery pink dress and smiled as Lester Apollo asked his first question.

"So, Silena," he began, "when you were reaped, your district stirred up quite a frenzy — almost more so than when I first announced I'd be the host. Why is that?"

Silena made herself look embarrassed. "Oh, I'm told that I'm a sight when I wield a spear. I can take on three people at once and win easily. My skill got me that ten in Training."

Right on cue, the audience _oohed_ and _ahhed_ , and she beamed with pride.

Lester's made-up face was a caricature of awe. "Ladies and gentlemen, we've got ourselves a warrior!"

The crowd burst into applause, which died down when Lester leaned forward to speak, "Now tell me, I've heard a few rumours floating about that you've got eyes for — and I can't blame you — a certain hottie in District Eight. What do you say to that?"

She giggled delicately. She could feel her own blush as Luke's face swam up in her head. "He _is_ handsome, but he's also a tribute. There's not much point in going after him, is there?"

"That's true, but I can't blame you for liking him!" Lester joined in on her laughter. "Nevertheless, you two would be an excellent team." He smiled knowingly, "Any chance of an alliance?"

"He's already part of our team, actually."

The crowd gasped, cheering wildly.

Lester raised his voice. "And what do you think are your chances of winning? Pretty high?"

Silena pinched the fabric of her dress between her fingers, rubbing it nervously. "The people back in my district always said I'd win. So..." she clenched her fists, bunching the material up, "yes, I think I have a very good chance."

Lester applauded. "Well, now I know who the audience will be watching!"

◼▲◼

"So, Perseus—"

Percy shook his head, smiling. "No, call me Percy."

"Of course, of course. So, Percy, Silena tells me she's the best with a spear. What talents have you got to show off?"

"I'm good with a sword," he admitted. It was really the only thing interesting he could do. Swimming and fishing weren't exactly the audience's favourite topics.

"That's fantastic!" Lester remarked. "We get many tributes who choose the sword as a weapon, but I'm sure you're quite special."

Percy nodded, grateful that Lester could turn his response into something compelling, though he felt a flush of dread when he thought about how the spectators wouldn't be likely to see him use the sword much.

"I understand that you volunteered," Apollo said, "what was your reason?"

 _Because I thought I had to, because everyone else did_. "Because I wanted to buy my mom a house in Victor's Village."

The crowd _awwed_ , which sounded so much like a recorded track that Percy had to turn and check to assure himself that the audience wasn't full of robots.

Apollo wiped an unusually sparkly tear from his cheek. "That's _so_ sweet," he swooned. "Good luck, Percy. We're rooting for you."

◼▲◼

"Thalia, let's go back to the moment they called your brother's name at the reaping," said Lester. His voice is quiet. "And you volunteered right after. You remind me of my sister; I know she'd do the same for me. Can you tell me what went through your mind when you made that decision?"

"Jason's my little brother," Thalia said, straightening. "Don't underestimate him; he's tough. But I love him more than anything, and I wanted to be there for him. Even if it costs my life. That was all I could think about in that moment."

Thalia could hear the audience sobbing and crying for tissues.

"What did he say to you? After the reaping?" Lester asked. The crowd had frozen, hanging onto her every word.

She forced a chuckle. "That I was insane."

The Capitol citizens broke into rambunctious laughter, the tension shattered.

But maybe it was true.

◼▲◼

"Tell me about your brother," Lester said to Travis. "Is he your twin?"

"No, he's a year younger than me. I like to think that we're exactly the same." Suddenly Travis curved an eyebrow. "In fact, he could be the one sitting in this chair right now."

Lester made a show of checking him over, and the crowd made tittering noises of curiosity. "Honestly, I can't tell," Lester sat back, smiling good-naturedly. "So what are you two like?"

"We're both underdogs," Travis lied. It wasn't true — everyone was viewed as roughly the same in District 6, but he knew the Capitol ate up this narrative, almost more than the tragic backstory. "I bet the other tributes don't think I stand a chance, and the sponsors too, but they're wrong, and I'll prove it."

"Whoa ho ho!" Lester exclaimed, impressed. "So what tricks have you got up your sleeve?" 

"I'd rather not give them away," he grinned. "You'll have to wait and see."

Before Lester could respond, Travis turned to look at the camera. "Hey Connor. I'll be back soon."

Lester hooted and slapped him on the back. "I like the confidence in this one!"

◼▲◼

"A beautiful girl like you — there must be some lucky sweetheart back at home waiting for your return."

The words rang in Calypso's head, and an icy chill went up her spine, choking her. Lester always asked the most attractive tributes this question, and it was just her luck that one would be her. Only it wasn't luck. He _knew_.

The Capitol all knew about her losses, and they were all going to get as much entertainment out of her as they could.

Lester continued to grin.

"N-no," she shook her head, trying to keep her smile on. "There is none."

To his credit, he dropped the subject and moved on to her training score, though the audience groaned with blatant disappointment. A man in a pink afro threatened to leave.

Lester's smile diminished ever so slightly, and for a split second his eyes went up to the balcony where the Gamemakers seated. The Head was making a 'more, please' motion with his hand.

The host turned back to her, "I heard through the artificial grapevine that you've had two boyfriends go into the Games. I know they fought bravely."

Calypso's eyes burned with rage. "They both lasted a week. The second died to disease, and suspiciously, he was the first to get sick despite being nowhere near the infected swamp."

Lester chuckled as if she were overreacting. "Calypso, both were courageous men. I'm sure you'll be just the same. How do you feel going into the Games?"

"Like I hate every aspect of it."

The room went silent, and Lester cautiously adjusted his sparkly gold tie. "Yes, it will be hard to walk the same path that they did. But you want to win for them, yes? Succeed where they left off?" He was desperately trying to craft a story for her, a story where she wasn't being openly defiant against the Capitol.

She was having none of it. "No, because it is unfair. The odds have never been in our favour. Even the smartest cannot win the Games if the Capitol doesn't like them."

Lester coughed and made a weak attempt at a joke. "Good thing for me, because the whole Capitol loves me." He shot the Gamemakers a desperate look. "Now Calypso, I wish you good luck in your Games." Lester pulled at her hand and ushered her off the stage, even though the buzzer had not gone off.

◼▲◼

Annabeth knew she looked powerful. She saw that Piper had already done that angle of beauty blended with danger, so she had to do it better. And after the whole defiance thing that Calypso had pulled, she definitely needed to fit the image of being compliant with the rules.

She had on a white gossamer gown with silver armour-like designs over it. She was wearing a girdle too, which made her very uncomfortable, but she needed to look attractive, and hiding the weight she'd gained to prepare for the Arena was necessary for that.

When Annabeth walked onto the stage, her dress caught everyone's interest in a flash.

This was all to get sponsors. She was relying on the fact that tributes don't pay much attention to people's interviews, and instead used the training scores to pick targets and make plans.

She looked at the audience and cameras as much as she could without it looking strange, trying to pull in enough supporters so that she could live for a few days in the Arena if she happened to get no supplies from the Cornucopia.

Lester Apollo gave her a broad smile that she could easily see was fake, even under the layer of bright makeup and plastic surgery.

"So Annabeth, your fellow tribute Luke joined the Careers, but you two seemed quite close during the reaping. What are your thoughts?"

"I've lost a good ally," she lied, solidifying the thought in the Careers' heads that he would be a valuable addition. "He'd make them an even more daunting team, but I've got skills of my own. I've always got a plan."

The interview went by without flaw. She made herself memorable as a formidable and intelligent tribute. She ended strong, with a glare into the camera, and three words.

"Don't forget me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the reviews! i love reading them~  
> the games start in the next chapter ;)


	8. "Bloodbath"

_Riordan was enraged, "You told him to make them his first targets? You're interfering in my Games. Their story would be so fascinating. The Capitol would love it. Ratings would soar!"_

_"I am the president," Clair shot back. "You answer to me, and I want those two_ dead _by the end of the bloodbath. If what we think is true, it could cause chaos..."_

◼▲◼

Venus Aphrodite's perky voice rung throughout the Arena, "Tributes, let the countdown for the Twenty-fourth Hunger Games begin!"

Directly after her words, the tributes internally counted the 60 seconds until the gong would sound. Step off a second before, and the mines underneath would blow them sky-high.

The tributes were on a grassy plateau on top of a small hill. From the centre of the Cornucopia, a good thirty meters of running would take the tributes down the slope, and in another half of that distance, into the rest of the Arena.

Around the hill were four types of natural environments split into equal quarters. Meadow, desert, rainforest, and frozen wasteland.

The sky was a brilliant blue, not a cloud to be seen. The sun shined down on the tributes, and they were already feeling the heat.

The tributes, as usual, were standing on platforms all around the gold Cornucopia, 10 feet apart from one another.

The Cornucopia, or the "horn of plenty," was filled with all kinds of supplies. Food, backpacks, weapons, medicine, clothes, fire starters...etc. Strewn around the Cornucopia were other items, their value decreasing the farther they were from the horn.

The Careers and Luke had their sights on the mouth of the Cornucopia and nowhere else.

Jason was eyeing a bright blue backpack ten paces away. Thalia and Annabeth had similar targets.

Octavian positioned himself to run for a fancy knife by the horn's opening.

Leo and Travis gave each other a cryptic look. Travis indicated his head to his right — the split between the forest and meadows, and Leo nodded to show he understood, then focused on minor items scattered nearby. Matches...rope...

Bianca searched for her brother. He must've been on the other side of the Cornucopia, because she couldn't see him. She spotted a nearby sleeping bag. It wasn't very cold now, but hot days almost always meant cold nights in the Arena. She found Will three tributes away on her right, and pointed towards Nico, mouthing that they should go that way — to the forest.

Will nodded, and he waved at Nico and passed on the information. In the process, Will caught sight of his district partner and her mischievous expression, and rapidly shook his head at her, seeing what her plan was.

In her skilled fingers, Calypso turned over the little pouch she'd weaved in the Training Centre. She'd filled it with coffee beans, so now it was like a sort of beanbag.

The closest malicious tributes were Octavian and Perseus. The latter was a Career, but he didn't seem very harmful to her...

She smirked at the sky, then hurled her token at Octavian's feet.

He only had time to let out a high-pitched shriek when his platform exploded.

Dirt and gore rained upon the plain, and the tributes gawked at Calypso in shocked silence. She only calmly brushed the dust off of her shoulders.

_Gong!_

There was no time to waste. Twenty-three teens leaped to action. Calypso and Katie retreated instantly, grabbing the supplies nearest to them. Katie to the meadows with a bundle of thin clothes, and Calypso into the forest with a roll of twine.

Leo grabbed an empty water bottle and matches, then bolted in the direction Travis had told him to go.

Rachel had her hands on a thin green blanket and a loaf of bread, and nimbly evaded Nyssa, disappearing down the slope to the woods.

Thalia and Jason each had a backpack, and turned to race for the woods. Annabeth followed, holding a box of basic medicine and a small plastic bag full of grapes. Jason was delayed by Meg, who grabbed for his pack.

Nyssa and Ethan fiercely grappled over an all-weather tent, with Ethan chucking a nearby thermos at her so she let go.

Nico went for a small paring knife laying on a black jacket halfway to the Cornucopia, but he got knocked down by an eager Bryce. Nico's token fell out of his pocket, and he dazedly got to his feet.

By then, the Careers had made it to the gold Cornucopia.

Piper burst out armed with a shiny dagger between her teeth and hands full of four throwing knives each. Clarisse was right behind her, wielding two spears.

Bryce snatched up a long knife and an axe, instantly going for Bianca, who was running past the Cornucopia with her sleeping bag.

Ethan had almost made it down the hill, but looked back just in time to get a dagger through the left eye and another in his lower back. Piper's next blade sliced a line in Thalia's shoulder.

Jason had decided to take off his backpack, letting Meg have it. Thalia gestured for him to hurry, and he followed her, "Go first! I'll catch up!"

Clarisse hurled her spear, and its point sank between Jason's shoulder blades, and he hit the dirt face-first.

"JASON!" Thalia howled. Annabeth's face was aghast, but she yanked at her friend, and they barely stumbled away to safety, Piper's fourth knife sailing over Annabeth's head as she ducked.

Bianca spotted Nico's toy figurine in the grass and bent down quickly, "Nico, you dropped —"

Bryce slashed Bianca in the back with his knife, and she fell hard on her side, crying out. He cackled aloud, stepping on her face as he sunk his axe into her chest.

 _"NO!"_ Nico screamed, stumbling towards her.

Clarisse made for Will Solace, who'd picked up a camo jacket. She struck him on the head with the butt of another spear, and as he flopped facedown into the earth, she stabbed downwards. He rolled out of the way and she missed his spine, but the javelin entered and exited his forearm, cracking through bone, and he shouted in pain.

She only had time to jerk it out — nearly taking his arm with it — when Frank tackled her. The bloody spear went flying, and they rolled and fought fiercely as Will got to his feet, awkwardly running off and trying to wrap the jacket around his arm. He stopped halfway down the hill and scanned for Nico, but he spied Piper aiming a knife at him and had to retreat into the desert.

Frank began running to Hazel. Clarisse held her ribs, one of them fractured, but she grunted and picked up her weapon.

Meanwhile, Meg was downed as Silena slammed a spear through her heart. Then the Career hesitated, walking backwards. Frank shoved her to the ground and took the lifeless Meg's backpack. "Hazel! Come on!" Silena moaned on the grass, holding her head.

Hazel had a medicine kit clutched to her chest, and she yelled that she was coming, but was stopped by something she saw.

Bryce was wildly swinging his axe at Nico, and she dropped the kit and rushed to him, protectiveness flaring up in her.

"Hazel!" Frank shouted again. He was about to follow only to be blocked by Clarisse, who brandished her blood-soaked spear at him.

Nico ducked as Bryce's metal blade swiped over his head, and continuously took steps backwards. Hazel grabbed Bryce's arm, by some miracle restraining him. "Go, Nico!"

He looked back at his sister's body, whimpering, "Bianca..."

"GO!" Hazel screamed, not hearing him. Bryce yelled in rage, and headbutted her, though she didn't release him.

Frank grabbed onto Clarisse's spear and pushed her aside, barreling towards Hazel. Bryce saw him and panicked, throwing Hazel off him in a burst of strength and slamming his axe into Frank's head.

"PIPER!" Bryce roared, turning to her as Hazel staggered away. His expression was feral as he pointed at Nico. "SOMEBODY GET HIM!"

Nico was fleeing towards the forest. Piper flung back her throwing arm and let the knife fly. Clarisse's spear landed between his legs and he tripped over it as Piper's blade flew past his skull. Her next one lodged in his side, only missing his vital organs because he'd rolled himself to the left.

"KILL HIM!" Bryce continued to bellow, flinging Frank's corpse aside, but Nico was already stumbling away from the hill and out of view.

"You idiot!" Bryce hollered, waving his axe at Clarisse.

Clarisse glowered, fists clenched and shaking, "Why are you so upset, Lawrence?!"

Piper snatched the long dagger from her jaws. "Stop it, you morons!"

Regardless of her orders, the two were sparring, spitting insults like white fire.

All the while, Percy guarded the opening of the Cornucopia with a bronze sword with Luke, not letting anyone besides Careers inside. Beckendorf was nearby, though his help wasn't really necessary, and Percy sensed that he didn't want to help anyway.

He watched Silena chase down Nyssa and skewer her neck as she tried to run with a medkit. Hazel escaped soon after, having to zigzag to avoid stepping on Jason's and Travis's blood-soaked bodies.

Percy stared at his spotless sword and sighed.

◼▲◼

The bloodbath ended with seven sounds of a cannon.

Piper and Percy had broken up Clarisse and Bryce's brawl, and the two stood five feet apart, seething.

Luke's sword hung at his side. He'd snagged a sheath and belt in the Cornucopia. "Let's clear out so the bodies can get cleaned up."

Piper plucked some of her throwing knives out of various corpses and followed Luke out of the clearing, cleaning them with a handful of grass.

Clarisse took the javelin out of Jason's back, then stabbed him again for good measure. She yanked it out and the seven of them disappeared into the forest.

Travis relaxed, listening intently for any sign of the Careers returning, but there were none. He got to his feet, wiping Jason's blood off his face with disgust.

Faking his death had been easy enough, but he wouldn't forget having to place his fingers on Jason's bleeding back to get the blood.

Travis quickly found a large brown duffel bag, and he filled it with as many supplies and weapons as he dared, before quietly disappearing down the hill to find Leo.

◼▲◼

"Who gets to go hunting?" Bryce asked.

The Careers glared at each other. They were fully armed and back at the Cornucopia, without all the bloody remains.

"Fine, I'll guard," Silena said, though she'd already been planning to. "My head is hurting anyway. Luke can stay with me."

Luke nodded, giving her a secret smile. Still, she wondered if there was more to his plan than he'd admitted.

The rest exchanged glances. "Sounds alright with me," Clarisse said, examining the blood on her spear. "I can't believe I only got one kill."

"It's because we have a lot of cowards this year," Bryce said, bad-tempered. "So many were running off before we could get our weapons."

"I wonder why," Percy snorted. Silena wanted to slap a gag over her district partner's mouth. Bryce was in a terrible mood and she didn't want to delay things with another quarrel.

Bryce grit his teeth, " _You_ didn't kill anyone. We could've gotten more than a dozen kills if you and Luke had done more besides _defence_. Same with you, Beckendorf."

"Defence is just as important," Silena spoke up, wanting to shield the three from his wrath. "They were the reason why we didn't have to worry about anyone else getting weapons. In fact, _no one_ but us got any."

Piper shrugged. "She's right about that. I mean, except the boy from 12, who has a knife in him."

Bryce rolled his eyes. "Of course you'd agree. You scored an eleven but didn't match up. Why didn't _you_ kill more?"

She scowled. "I was busy breaking up your fight with Clarisse, idiot!"

He shrugged. "Fine, whatever. Anyways, we're leaving. Beckendorf, you stay too. You need enough people to have proper sleep shifts." He slung a full backpack over his shoulder, "Let's go. We'll be back in two days, tops. Then some of us will switch."

Clarisse, Percy, Bryce, and Piper marched off. Silena looked at Luke urgently, but he mouthed, _it's fine_. His plan would still work.

The two of them walked away from the entrance of the Cornucopia while Charles flipped over a plastic bin and sat on it, biting into an apple. "Where are you guys going?"

"Bathroom break," Luke said casually. "I'll be behind the horn."

Silena indicated her bleeding head, hoping Charles wouldn't find them suspicious. "I'm going to find some bandages."

"Alright," Beckendorf said, propping his sword across his lap.

Luke led Silena out of earshot, "Thanks for helping me. You're an angel."

"It's no problem," she blushed. _He's so charming_ , she thought helplessly. Though she'd begun to develop a crush on Beckendorf, it was hard to let go of Luke's handsome face.

In silence, the two gathered supplies into the biggest backpack they could find. Food, clothes, an extra bag, weapons, medicine, and other tools.

In minutes he'd disappeared from the Cornucopia, towards the forest.

Silena opened a medkit, and was treating her wound when she heard the cannon, and then rustling grass.

Had her allies had already found someone and took their life? She returned to the Cornucopia's opening, wrapping a bandage around her head.

She screamed upon seeing Beckendorf face down, bleeding from his throat into the grass. There was only one explanation.

_Luke._

The sight of her slain teammate made her nauseous, and she crumpled to her knees, the bandage slipping from her grasp.

Silena suddenly did not want to kill another human. She was a pawn of the Capitol, she realized. She'd slaughtered the girl from 3 and a 12-year-old kid and now Charles was dead at her feet. Perhaps she deserved it.

Maybe she even deserved the icy blade that entered her back, followed with Luke's whisper, "Goodbye, Silena."

◼▲◼

"Did you see where Katie went?" Travis asked, late in the evening. He and Leo were concealed halfway up a leafy tree. They were half a mile from the Cornucopia, well-hidden among the leaves.

Leo nodded his head, filling a small backpack Travis had picked up. "She went to the meadows. Are you sure you want to go after her?"

Travis sighed, "Not if she went there. Not much cover, and despite our best efforts, we aren't plant experts."

Leo tapped something into the bark. "I hate that Nyssa died...She didn't seem to like me, but I wanted her to win."

"Hey," Travis gripped his shoulder, "don't blame yourself. I know you also feel guilty about something that happened with your mom and dad, but don't. You're this remorseful, so there's no way you meant for it to happen. It's not your fault."

"I guess," Leo said, unconvinced. Then his tone turned hopeful, "At least Calypso got away. I don't know where she went, but she might've ended up in the same place as Katie, and they could form an alliance."

Travis covered his lips, speaking quietly so the cameras wouldn't pick up, "I don't think the Gamemakers would want Calypso to win."

Leo frowned, "Why?"

"She's too openly angry at the Capitol. And after that stunt she did with the bomb, there's no way they won't ensure her death."

Travis regretted saying it, because his ally looked guilty again. He _had_ been the one to give Calypso the idea.

"There weren't a lot of deaths at the bloodbath this time," Leo noticed, changing the subject.

"Yeah," Travis agreed, "that means the tributes are smarter this year. We need to be careful."

"Earlier I heard two cannons," Leo added. "Do you know who they were?"

"I heard a scream after the first cannon that sounded like Piper or the girl from 4. Someone must have ambushed the people guarding the horn. Maybe it was Luke. I always suspected that he'd joined to betray them."

It was cold, so when Leo shivered Travis wasn't sure of the cause. "That's a brutal plan," Leo remarked.

"It must've worked though. Get some rest — I'll keep first watch. Right now it's too dangerous to be walking around, and we need the energy to find water tomorrow."

He'd looked through a lot of the crates and bins at the Cornucopia, knowing the hovercrafts wouldn't appear until after he left, but the waterskins and water bottles were all empty. He hadn't come across any trace of a water source either.

Leo nodded. He slid into his sleeping bag and leaned against the trunk. "Got it."

 _I'm coming back to you, Connor_ , Travis thought to himself, surveying the forest floor and turning the dull silver ring below his knuckle. _Bet on it._

◼▲◼

In a small cave deep in the forest, Annabeth gazed at their supplies. It was dark, and the anthem would play soon. Thalia sat huddled in the corner, sobbing with rage and sadness. Annabeth had tried to bandage her cut shoulder, but Thalia had angrily shaken her off, making the blood well up faster.

"It's not fair," Thalia gasped, tearing her hand through her short black hair, "these Games aren't fair. If I was determined enough to do something, shouldn't I deserve to succeed? How could the world just take him away from me? Just like that?"

 _Life isn't fair_ , Annabeth's mother had said once, when she'd been very very young. _It does not owe you anything just because you're a good person, or because you work hard._

It was sad and discouraging, but it was true. She didn't feel like it would help Thalia's situation though, and neither would saying sorry, so she kept quiet.

The anthem played, and Annabeth went out to see today's deaths. The opening of the cave was narrow, so she had to turn sideways to get through.

To her surprise, the boy from 2 was the first to be shown. His name was Charles, she remembered. Next was the girl from 3, then Silena Beauregard.

Annabeth swallowed. Luke must have killed her and Beckendorf. She'd been on the fence about this part of the plan, which had been Luke's idea.

On the one hand, there were less Careers to deal with. On the other, the rest of the Careers would now be running back to the Cornucopia to find out what happened, and would instantly begin tracking down Luke, decreasing his chance of survival. And murdering people...that was something she'd wanted to avoid.

And the second part of the plan was dangerous, and she wondered if Luke had decided to do it. She wanted to go out and climb a tree to check, but it wasn't worth the risk.

After Silena came Jason's handsome face, and Annabeth's heart fell at the reminder of his death. It truly was unfair, and she felt so terrible for Thalia, who'd volunteered for the Games for the sole purpose of protecting her little brother.

Then it was the young girl and skinny boy from 9. Throwing your token at another person was a clever idea, but also a stupid one. She doubted the Gamemakers had appreciated it, and she was surprised Calypso was still alive. Waiting until the countdown was almost up was a good call on her part, otherwise she would've been blown up as punishment. Still, her chances weren't good.

She saw the stocky boy from 10, then the boy and girl from 11.

That made a total of 9 dead on the first day, and 15 remaining.

Thalia's cries had hushed somewhat, and Annabeth went back inside to comfort her friend.


	9. "Arena"

_President Clair's eyes were alert as she watched the dozens of screens. "You must be ecstatic," she said to the Head Gamemaker dully. "So much action on a single day."_

_Rick was indeed smiling gleefully. "Luke is certainly interesting. You must be sad that Nico survived the bloodbath."_

_"He'll die soon," she said dismissively._

_He sighed, "Yes, well, since you got Bryce to kill 'Maria' it's not going to be as compelling anymore. I wonder how long it'll take for the tributes to figure out the arena?"_

◼▲◼

When Beckendorf's face flashed across the night sky, Piper felt her blood run cold. Something had happened after they'd left the Cornucopia.

After the girl from 3, Silena appeared. Piper's mouth fell open. There was only one explanation.

Bryce roared out his anger, and birds scattered into the skies. He slammed his axe into a nearby tree. "The TRAITOR! I _knew_ it!"

" _Wait,"_ Percy caught at his arm before he could go running. "They could've gotten attacked by someone else. We should check if Luke is also dead first."

Bryce shook him off, "Are you dense? After the bloodbath, there were only _two_ cannons. It was Silena and Beckendorf. Luke betrayed us."

Clarisse had gone white, "Don't blame Silena." Piper didn't want to condemn Silena either, but it _had_ been her idea to trust Luke...

Bryce scowled, "Oh, I'm blaming her."

"Hey!" Piper shouted, deciding this was enough talking. "We need to go _now_. No one's guarding the horn, and we need those supplies if we want to survive."

"She's right," Percy agreed, "come on."

They sprinted through the rainforest, their feet thumping on dry hard-packed dirt. Piper wished she'd brought a coat with her — somehow it was _freezing_ in the night. Secretly she was glad they were going back.

When they reached the clearing and were halfway up the hill, it was still dark, but they could see the wreckage.

Their supplies at the Cornucopia had been reduced to ashes.

◼▲◼

Annabeth was up early the next day.

Thalia was asleep, and she took the opportunity to bandage her shoulder.

The forest was pretty vast, and she hoped that Luke would be able to find them soon. She needed to take stock of the arena, and also make some sort of path for Luke to follow so he could find them.

She squeezed out of the cave, pulling away the vines that were concealing them to be met with cool air. It was much warmer than it'd been at night, but she still shivered as she carefully looked around. Nobody was nearby.

It was likely that Luke had burned the supplies. Annabeth had told him to only do it if the arena allowed the other Careers to not notice immediately, and since the Careers would obviously go into the forest, they wouldn't be able to see the smoke.

She found a little patch of strawberries by the cave and pulled some off their stems, thinking hard. The layout of the arena did not make _any_ sense to her.

Namely how it was split into four sections — forest, meadow, desert, and tundra.

But who would go to the last two? There was no logic to it. It wasn't like any district would have an advantage in those environments.

She examined her outfit. The tributes had been given bright orange T-shirts — probably so it'd be easier to spot each other — and comfortable navy pants. Her thin leather boots had the most bizarre soles she'd ever seen. Mostly rubber, but also dotted with tiny metal spikes.

They were for _ice_ , she realized. So clearly the Gamemakers expected some of them to go to the tundra at some point. But _why_? Was that the only place they could find water?

Annabeth took a small bite of one of the berries. It tasted just like normal, and she put them into the medkit, which she'd emptied earlier into Thalia's backpack.

She scanned the trees and the surrounding area. She spotted a lizard with rough brown scales and a severed tail skittering by, but she didn't see any other animals.

Water was the most important thing, and she had to find some before doing anything else.

She kicked at some dry leaves, then squinted up at the sunlight filtering through the crackling foliage. For a place that looked every bit a rainforest, there sure wasn't a lot of rain.

It was almost like a desert.

◼▲◼

Will jolted awake. He was sitting against a tree in an oasis, where he'd fallen asleep. Getting hit on the side of the head with a spear and then stabbed was not good for his health, and he must've been exhausted.

Quickly he remembered the events after the bloodbath. Going into the desert wasn't something he'd wanted to do. When he'd gotten away from the bloodbath, he'd planned to make his way into the meadows, where he could possibly find some herbs that'd help the pain or speed healing, but the desert hadn't been nearly as bad as he'd thought.

One reason was the oasis he'd arrived at after an hour of walking, but the second was the complete un-desert-ness of it.

Despite the morning sun beating down from the sky, the desert was humid and barely hot. The sand was only mildly warm, which was jarring. The night hadn't been cold either, only somewhat.

He had no idea where Nico was, and he wondered if their alliance was even still going. He felt terrible for the guy — he was really upset when Maria was killed.

He felt a pang in his arm, and he looked down to see all the dried blood staining the jacket around it. It was high time to really do something about it.

Luckily, his head wasn't spinning anymore, so the Career's blow wasn't too serious. However, the injury to his arm was a problem. Last night he'd washed out the dirt and grass in a river and wrapped it back up. As far as he could tell, the spear had miraculously almost missed the two bones, but it'd fractured one of them. But maybe if he kept his arm straight, it'd be fine.

As for the two wounds (the spear had gone straight through) he needed to keep them closed so they could heal over and not get infected. He couldn't keep the bloody coat around his arm forever.

There were a few cacti in the distance, and Will walked towards them. With a chunk of rock, he broke off a needle. Then, resigning himself, he tore little threads from the jacket.

Stitches were going to be painful.

◼▲◼

It wasn't much of a frozen wasteland, Hazel thought, because it was warm. And when she got far enough, she'd seen _trees_ bursting out of the snow-covered ground, and holes in the ice where animals had burrowed in. It was...weird.

She'd come here because back in district 10, she'd worked in the freezers, delivering crates of frozen meat from the factories to the trucks. She was pretty sure she could stand the cold at least for a few days, especially if the sun stayed this hot.

She also hadn't wanted to go to the forest, where she was bound to meet someone eventually. The meadows gave her bad vibes, and she figured nobody would come to the tundra.

She had been right. Vaguely she wondered if there were polar bears here, but that thought just made her think of Frank.

 _Frank_.

Just the thought of him made her want to scream. How many people had he saved at that bloodbath?

He'd died a hero, but she still wished the big teddy bear was here with her.

There was a scratching sound nearby, and she turned to find a brown bunny digging at the ground with tiny paws.

Hazel came closer and bent down, "Want some help?"

The rabbit leapt away, and she sighed. Animals never liked her. Guess that was why she ended up in the freezers.

She returned to the tree she'd been hiding out in. She had gotten a backpack Frank had dropped when he went to save her, and there was no food or water inside, but plenty of other things. There were matches, a pair of sunglasses, some rope, an empty water bottle, a change of clothes, and a sleeping bag.

Hazel put on the sunglasses so the sun wasn't reflecting so painfully off the ice into her eyes. She could try melting some ice for water.

It was astounding how lucky she'd been, after her years of bad luck. She wondered what her parents would think, if they hadn't died for selling the gold jewelry she'd found on the ground, not knowing it belonged to the escort from the Capitol.

◼▲◼

When Nico woke up late on the second day of the Games, he was aching.

He wasn't sure how long he'd ran. It had turned into more of a pained walk after a few miles, until he'd eventually collapsed by a tree, completely drained.

After all, what was the point of anything?

His sister was gone forever, he was empty-handed and bleeding, Will had disappeared, and _his sister was gone forever_.

He wiped at his face and felt all the dried tear tracks.

There was a twinge in his side when he moved, and he remembered the knife the girl from 1 had thrown. He discovered that he'd already pulled it out and it was in his left hand. In his grieving haze, he must've realized that running with a blade inside him wasn't a healthy idea.

 _I want death_ , he tried to say, but found that his throat was so dry it hurt.

Bianca wouldn't want him to give up like this.

He looked around and saw a silver parachute two feet away. He tried to stand up, but it hurt too much, so he fell forward onto his knees and crawled towards it.

There was a roll of bandages inside it, and he stared at it with surprise. He got a _one_ in training because he refused to do anything. Why did people want to sponsor him?

Now wasn't the time to question it though. He lifted the dumb orange T-shirt every tribute had to wear and examined the wound, trying not to think about Bianca.

The cut was quite bad, though he was lucky it hadn't pierced anything important, and it'd stopped bleeding. He had no memory of seeing water, so there wasn't any way to clean it. He wrapped it up as best he could and tucked the leftover in his pocket, putting the parachute in too.

He was in a large patch of sunlight that also shined on where he'd been sleeping. That must've been why he woke up. He was glad for it though. The night had been really cold and the sun was hot.

The air was warm though, so he scooted into the shade. Now that he was thinking more clearly, he knew he needed to find water soon. The cold might've helped him not sweat too much during the night, but he knew he'd already lost way too much water from running and, you know, crying.

There was a patch of juicy strawberries nearby, and he inched himself over to it, glad for something to do.

◼▲◼

Percy hoped his mother wasn't too worried. He and the other Careers dug through the debris. Anything made of cloth was either burned to a crisp or half-burnt. The majority of the food was blackened and inedible.

The weapons were probably alright, but a large fire had been set inside the Cornucopia, filling it with toxic fumes. It was still smoking now — Luke must have dragged a lot of fabrics and branches in there to make it happen.

Clarisse had gone inside with her jacket over her face, and come out with two swords and red watering eyes. Now she was cursing Luke and storming around the hill, roaring for him to come and fight her.

Bryce was tearing up the grass with his axe, throwing a thunderous tantrum that the rest of them stayed well away from.

Piper crossed her arms, "We definitely set a record for how fast the Careers lose their supplies."

Percy walked around the plain, hoping there was more that Luke had missed. A few bandages or an apple maybe. Right now they needed all they could get.

He came across a small figurine of a man and picked it up, turning it over. It could've been a marker for a board game or something similar.

"What do you have there?" Piper asked, coming over. "Something useful?"

"Uh, no," Percy held it up. "It's someone's token."

"Oh," Piper remarked. "I think it belongs to that boy from 12. I saw him holding it in the Training Center."

 _Nico_ , Percy remembered. It was the guy who'd somehow managed to get a score of 1. He hadn't seen him in the bloodbath, likely because he'd stayed by the opening.

"Anyway," Piper said. "I found this." She revealed a long blowgun that'd been behind her back, like she was embarrassed by it. "It was by the Cornucopia, not inside it."

Percy wasn't sure what to say. "Congratulations?"

"I mean, I can use it," Piper mused. "It's the weapon my dad used to win, so naturally I trained with it. It's just not as glorious as my knife-throwing."

"Well, it's something. Besides, you have plenty of knives, so that blowgun can be your backup."

"I guess," she put the weapon into her belt and watched Bryce throw his axe around for a while.

 _Do you feel terrible about all this?_ he wanted to ask her. _When you slew so many people, did you feel guilty like I did while watching it?_

_Who are you doing this for?_

"What now?" he asked instead.

She surveyed the burning Cornucopia. "Best plan is to stay here and salvage what we can before anyone else. We'll try the forest again tomorrow, though the other players would be pretty concealed by now."

"Why do we call them players so often? Everyone else always says tributes."

Piper blinked, hesitating, "Because...these are the Games."

He didn't know what to make of her answer. It seemed to be every Careers' excuse to kill other kids. Percy pocketed Nico's token, though he wasn't sure why. Piper watched him do it but didn't say a word.


	10. "Knife"

_President Clair paced in front of the large screen. "Why do Calypso and that boy keep getting sponsors?"_

_"I don't know," Rick shrugged irritably. "The girl is daring, and the boy is an underdog. The Capitol loves both._ I _love both. They're excellent stories."_

_She jabbed her thin finger at the girl, frustration building, "Well, I don't care. Hurry up kill her. She's not controllable at all, and if it's dramatic enough they won't mind when she dies."_

_He sighed. "We can't keep sending mutts after her. They'll accuse us of, you know, the opposite of favouritism."_

_"Send_ something _."_

◼▲◼

Last night there were no cannons nor faces in the sky. Annabeth just hoped Luke would make it to them safely.

Thalia had started setting up snares while Annabeth gathered roots and more berries. Right now the latter was their only source of water.

She was starting to get the feeling that there _was_ no water in the rainforest. The tree leaves were turning into autumn colours, and only things near the ground were growing alright.

They were well into the forest, so it would take a while for Luke to find them.

In a few hours, they walked towards the centre of the arena together. Annabeth had braided a whole batch of vines into green ropes, and as they went along they tied them to tree branches that led back towards their camp.

The vines weren't noticeable unless you really paid attention, and she hoped that Luke would. Food wasn't a problem now, but they _really_ needed some more supplies.

She regretted not picking up the knife that had cut Thalia's shoulder, but at the moment she'd felt that getting away from the bloodbath was the most important task, and they couldn't waste seconds by running after the blade.

When they took a break by a tree with low branches, a parachute landed a few feet away. Annabeth opened it up. A large bottle of water.

Thankful, they both took a few sips. It was really nice to drink actual water instead of relying on the bit of juice in the fruits they gathered.

When they returned to the entrance cave, Annabeth saw that their snares had caught two lizards. One was the one she'd noticed the day before because it had no tail.

Annabeth told Thalia to go on inside and gut the other one while she made a thinner rope of vines. She tied it around the waist of the wiggling reptile and loosened the trap's noose to let it go free. It ran off, trailing the long green plants as it did.

◼▲◼

"Look who I found!" Bryce yelled cheerfully. Piper heard his cruel laughter and the shrieks and struggles of a female tribute.

He dragged the girl from 12 into the clearing by the arm. His axe was in his other hand, but she was fighting with all she had, clawing at his face and kicking him fiercely.

Bryce already had scrapes down his cheeks and across one eye, but they did nothing to diminish his maniacal glee.

Percy seemed close to vomiting, but Clarisse just stared at the scene with disdain, saying, "Why didn't you kill her right away? What if she has allies?"

He cracked up. "This girl? Unlikely. Little Nico ditched her the first second he could. Isn't that right?"

She glared at him, "My name is Katie." Her voice was very hoarse. Piper suspected she'd come to the forest to find water.

Bryce ignored her and declared, "There have been no deaths for more than a day! My audience is desperate for a show." He shoved Katie to the ground and stepped on her back, resting the tip of his axe on the nape of her neck to keep her still. He turned to Piper, hand outstretched. "Give me a knife."

Piper hesitated. "Don't you have one?"

He scowled. "I dropped it on the way. Hurry up."

She slowly pulled a small leaf-shaped dagger out of her belt, all too aware of Katie's terrified but accusing gaze on her.

Piper tossed it to him, and he caught the handle easily. He flung his tomahawk aside and sat on poor Katie, pinning her struggling arms down with his knees. She already had a cut down one forearm, but he paid it no heed as he leaned on it.

"Are you watching, President?" Bryce shouted to the sky. "Capitol? You better be!" He smirked down at Katie, spinning the steel blade in his hand.

 _Please just kill her_ , Piper begged. Clarisse only seemed annoyed, but her own feelings were far more entwined with sudden sympathy. Torture had never sat right with her, and she wondered what Bryce would say if she dared to speak up.

The rustle of brittle leaves made her turn to Percy, who had his hand on the hilt of his sword, like he wanted to attack Bryce right then and there.

Their eyes met, and she knew they were both thinking that they did not want Katie to suffer like this. Bryce would never let the girl go, but perhaps Piper could still save her.

Just as Bryce made a small cut above Katie's right eyelid, Piper flung her heaviest dagger into her neck.

Instantly Katie's eyes rolled up in a faint, and a beat later the cannon boomed.

Piper had to throw herself to the ground to evade Bryce's knife. "WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!" he shrieked.

He picked up his axe and continued to scream while she leapt to her feet and tried to find an explanation when she herself hardly understood why she'd done it. She was supposed to be ruthless, so where had this come from?

She had a dagger in each hand, ready to defend herself against his wrath. All it'd take is a throw to the heart and he'd be dead. "You were wasting time —"

"Oh yeah?" Bryce roared. "Tell me why you think so. We're not being hunted, we have supplies, there's no _time limit —_ "

"I know, but —"

She trailed off, and he glowered, "You have three seconds before I cut your head off."

_Can I even aim before he swings?_

Piper forced a smile. "But I knew your reaction would be worth it."

Her reply struck Bryce in the face, and he blinked at her. "You did that just to make me mad?!"

"Yeah," she lied, shrugging. "I was bored too, you know."

He was still fuming, but less so. "Well, you got me. Congratulations. I thought you were becoming soft for a second."

"Ha, as if."

She felt sick as he patted her back. "You're fun, Piper. Real fun."

◼▲◼

"Seriously?!" she raged.

Calypso slammed a mutated owl in the face with a metal pole. She supposed they were owls. They _looked_ like them, but much bigger. They had shiny black plumage, red claws, and gold eyes that matched their golden beaks.

Apparently, her sponsors had too much money, because they've sent her three things so far. But the _Gamemakers_ must've hated her because they sent a muttation after her every day.

The small tent was perhaps the most useful. She never needed it for shelter, but the poles came in handy for these situations.

There were three of them, and the last two came at her with loud screeches.

She bashed another one after a few tries, but the last one slashed her right elbow with its beak. Calypso felt the numbness spread from the cut until her entire arm was paralyzed. She frantically caught the pole with her left hand as it fell from her frozen fingers, and whipped it upwards at the bird.

She missed, and its feathers brushed the side of her cheek as she jumped aside.

"I hate you," she told it, and slapped it out of the air.

The three were twitching on the ground now, and she finished them off. She sat down heavily, breathing hard. It was extremely fortunate that when they'd first attacked she'd seen them coming. Otherwise a hovercraft would already be carrying off her corpse.

She examined the cut. It was minor, but she could barely twitch her hand. She wrapped it up with a torn-off piece of her shirt and hoped it wasn't permanent.

This whole thing was getting tiring. First was the army of scorpions she'd ran miles to evade. Then came the little fire-breathing snakes that melted her boots. Now owls with crazy beaks. She was sure tomorrow would only bring worse things.

She took stock of her supplies. Leftover strings of twine, thin jacket, half-empty water bottle, and a pouch made of leaves and thread she'd filled with strawberries and roots.

Yesterday she'd climbed a tree and saw a lot of smoke go up from the Cornucopia. Maybe it was safe to check it out now. She wanted to see the other places too, since it was becoming clear that there was no water source anywhere in the forest.

Calypso had just begun trekking in the Cornucopia's direction when her foot landed on something hard. Her first thought was that it was a rock, but a glance down and revealed a serrated hunting knife.

When she nudged it with her foot to get the dirt off, she realized the tip had a smear of crimson. She picked it up and examined it. Was it animal or human blood?

She pretended it was just strawberry juice as she wiped it on her shirt. "Thanks, nature."

It'd only been half an hour when a sudden shower of noise surprised her.

 _Rain_.

◼▲◼

Travis _really_ wanted water. On the second day — yesterday — he'd received a small waterskin filled with it, but between him and Leo, it quickly ran out, and they'd woken up thirsty again. They'd even found a large pond-like ditch in the morning, but it was bone dry.

The strawberries helped, of course, but their abundance had decreased rapidly and they were determined to save them for emergencies.

Leo suddenly stopped. "Do you hear that?"

Travis only nodded, mouth too dry to want to respond immediately. It was unmistakably raining.

He and Leo looked upwards, but there were no clouds to be seen. The torrent sounded like it was over the desert.

"You've got to be kidding me," Travis moaned. It was just like the Gamemakers to put the solution to his dehydration in the most unlikely of places.

Leo winced. "Should we go?"

He considered the options. For one thing, loads of people would be swarming in that direction for water, and they'd lose their cover in the forest. On the other hand...water was pretty nice.

"Just for a bit," Travis decided. "It'd be good to know what the desert is like." They trudged for a while, the backpacks heavy on their shoulders.

"Percy, hurry up!"

Freezing, the two stared at each other. _Careers_ , Travis mouthed. Leo's eyes were wide. The yell had come from barely ten yards away, and they were definitely within sight.

"Hey!" a gruff female voice hollered. "I see two people that way!"

It was followed by deranged cackling, and that was enough to shake them and get them fleeing for their lives.

Three more voices joined in behind them as they tore through the forest, trampling dead weeds and leaping over tree roots.

Only they were already getting tired. The two of them definitely didn't get this much exercise done in their respective districts.

"Split up?" Leo panted, nearly tripping over a stone.

"Yeah," he said, and the two quickly headed at angles away from each other.

Seconds passed with just the pounding of rainfall and Travis's heart to accompany him, until he veered around a large tree trunk and heard Leo's cry of pain.

It nearly made him stop, but he forced himself to continue. He was way too far away to help in time. Connor would understand, and so would Leo.

He thought it was the boy from 1 who shouted, "Piper I got one! Don't let him run off while I get the other!"

Hold on, that meant Leo had a chance. There was time, and he should go find him —

" _I'm_ getting the second one!" someone called back. Must be the girl from 2. She sounded dangerously close, and Travis tried to go faster, thinking that there's no way on earth he would circle back to save Leo at this rate.

Eventually a hand slammed into his upper back, and rough nails scraped at his neck as he was lifted painfully off his feet by the collar of his shirt.

All he could see of his captor was her gleaming spear. "Hello," she growled.

The weapon moved behind him and he knew it was going to stab him in the back. But before it could, it clattered to the ground and she gasped, "What the—!"

Travis fell and scrambled up, grinning. In his hand was a bloody knife, and red stained the girl's side. Her hand went to her belt to grasp empty air.

"Here's your knife," he taunted, holding it out. Then he snatched it back and took off running.


	11. "Rain"

_"Oh hey!" Rick exclaimed excitedly. "He's on his way to them. I wonder how this will play out?"_

_President Clair rolled her eyes, "What_ I _care about it why the Careers are so different this year, and_ why _that dratted boy from 12 won't bleed out..."_

_He sighed. "You're no fun."_

◼▲◼

Leo grit his teeth and dragged his wounded and surely broken leg out of the clearing and behind a tree. He collapsed, not able to stand.

 _Useless useless useless,_ he cursed.

Though he was lucky he still _had_ his limb. Bryce had been running when his axe had swept him off his feet so the swing wasn't too powerful. Then he'd ran straight by, determined to reach Travis.

Footsteps stopped beside him, and he stared grimly up at the girl from 1. Piper.

She gripped a dagger in one hand as she regarded him. "I can't believe you're still alive. Aren't you just a repair boy?"

"I invented the force field," he defended himself, trying to edge away from her, but his leg flared with white pain and he gasped. Leo willed himself not to look.

He had nothing to live for anyway, so hey, dying wasn't all that bad — he'd get to see his family again. It was only the primal instinct of survival that drove him to even try in the first place.

No blow came, and Piper fiddled with her weapon, "You need to hide."

"...What?"

"Don't make me repeat myself. Just go."

He was in too much agony to question it, "I kind of...can't walk, in case you...haven't noticed."

She scowled and checked over her shoulder. Then she hefted him up and with effort carried him to a dense low-branched tree and dumped him in it. "Climb. Or you're dead."

Her words powered him, and he immediately used his good leg to inch himself among the leaves.

Piper turned her back and stalked away, shuffling her feet to cover up the trail of blood. She shouted, "Bryce, where did you leave him!?"

 _"What do you mean?!"_ a boy bellowed.

"I MEAN YOU LOST HIM."

As they argued, Leo hugged the bark so he wouldn't fall, and weakly pulled a roll of bandages out of his backpack to wrap up the injury so it wouldn't drip.

Half an hour later the Careers disappeared and their voices faded, and Leo still couldn't figure out why Piper would spare him. Sweat dripped off his skin — he was losing way too much water.

He got distracted by Travis walking underneath him.

"Hey!" Leo rasped. "Up here."

Travis's head shot up, "Leo!" He scrambled up and settled himself beside him. "I'm glad you're safe. The Careers are at the desert planning to ambush people. I got to see the place — it's raining hard." He held out an unfamiliar steel thermos and popped the cap, "Here. I stole everything the girl from Two had on her belt."

Leo drank from it gratefully, "Thanks." He knew it was just water, but it tasted like nectar.

Travis gestured at his leg, "Is it broken?"

"Yeah. I managed to set it, but I won't be walking anytime soon."

His ally gave him an odd look, "That's fine. If we just stay here we can last a few more days until you can move."

Leo grimaced. He didn't feel like he would ever be able to use his leg — it honestly felt like it was on fire — but he didn't say so.

The anthem began to play, and they automatically looked towards the sky. Only the leaves blocked their view, so Travis climbed down to see whose cannon had gone off in the afternoon.

When he came up again, he was troubled. "It was Katie."

"Oh," Leo said. He remembered how Travis had wanted her as an ally. At the time he'd assumed it was because she had all that useful knowledge of plants, but maybe Travis had taken a liking to her. "Sorry man."

Travis shrugged, "It's fine. I didn't really know her." Then he went down again, saying he was going to make some snares.

◼▲◼

Nico had been trying to find a place to rest, but even under the moon's glow it was quite hard to figure out where it was actually safe. His side ached, but it thankfully didn't show any signs of being infected. The throwing knife he held in his hands in case something or someone jumped him.

When he stumbled across the Careers by accident, he nearly shrieked.

Three of them were spread out in sleeping bags, snoring away while clutching their weapons. The boy from 4 was pacing back and forth in front of a tree, examining his sword.

Nico remembered his name to be Percy, because he'd been the only Career to have a genuinely decent reason to want to win the Games, and yet didn't act like he wanted to win.

Still, he was with the Careers, and the boy from 1 had brutally killed his sister. Certainly a truly nice person wouldn't remain allied with someone like _him_ , right?

He must've been glaring at Bianca's murderer too long, because Percy spotted him. The only thing that didn't make Nico sprint away immediately was the fact that the other boy _dropped his sword_.

The two of them froze. The girl with choppy dark hair turned over, but nobody woke up.

Percy's hand went to his pocket, and Nico thought it strange because the Arena didn't have any weapons you could hide in there — not even pocket knives. When he brought it out again, a familiar figurine stared at him across the clearing.

Nico blinked, not believing his eyes.

At first he thought the Career was using it to lure him forward, but Percy just threw it at him, and it landed at his feet.

He stared up at Percy, who mouthed 'I'm sorry' before picking up his sword and facing the other way, deliberately turning a blind eye.

Nico held the small object in his hands and walked off. The thing brought back all sorts of emotions and memories, the main one anger. He wanted to just throw the stupid thing away.

Although she didn't know Bryce was targeting her, he was angry that Bianca had died trying to save the stupid toy. He was mad at Percy too, for looking at him with pity when he couldn't even understand, and for apologizing and thinking that this thing could somehow make him feel better.

But most of all, it was a living reminder to be mad at himself for taking it in the first place. Bianca wouldn't have died if he hadn't acted like it was some great treasure.

Still, he held on to it, because it was all he had at this point.

Great, he thought, now he trusted Percy, whether he wanted to or not.

◼▲◼

By day four the next morning, Will's skin had gotten really red. The downside of the desert was that although it wasn't particularly hot, the sun was still strong and he couldn't spend all his time hunkering down under the two thin trees by the oasis.

And when the pouring rain began, he got _really_ soaked, the droplets even hurt his sunburned skin instead of soothing it. It'd stopped for an hour, but his clothes were still damp.

His arm was healing up though, so that was a good thing.

He was about to start sharpening sticks to catch more fish, but saw a lone figure approaching in the distance. Will couldn't tell who it was, so he hid behind a few rocks.

When he realized it was Calypso, he was still unsure of whether to reveal himself. Who knew what people could become after a few days in the arena?

But she looked immensely tired. Her right arm wasn't moving as much as it should, and she was covered in scrapes. There was a gash in her side.

His instincts told him to go heal her, but he didn't know if it was actually a good idea.

By the time he realized she'd be able to see his footprints in the sand, she'd already called out, "Who's here? I'm not going to fight you."

Will decided to reveal himself. The girl honestly needed to just sit down and let herself heal for a second.

Her lips formed his name, and she walked a little faster. She didn't seem very happy to see him, "You've had water this entire time?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "I got lucky. See, you should've teamed with me at the start."

"Fine, you're my ally now, but don't say I didn't warn you." Then she paused, surveying the area, "Where's Nico? Wasn't he with you?"

"I lost him at the bloodbath. What happened to you?"

"Many things. The Gamemakers hated what I did. I got attacked by mutts a few times, and the latest one paralyzed my arm. Then when it was raining and I started to come here, I heard the Careers and had to run. A branch caught my side."

It took a while to dress her wound. Once her arm regained some feeling, they went to the river to catch some fish with sharpened branches.

The water was loud and the work was monotonous enough for the Gamemakers to focus elsewhere, so Will took the chance to ask his new alley some questions.

"Do you plan on winning?" Will asked curiously.

"I don't want to die, you know. I'd much rather not." Calypso took out her hunting knife and cut her branch thinner. "But if I do, the Capitol won't let me live, or at least I'd never be allowed to speak in public again. Rightfully so, because I'd just swear at them."

"Then why be this rebellious?"

She sighed in annoyance. "You're smart and cautious. I can respect that. But when the Capitol takes everyone I love, the second during my live interview, it's pretty insulting to them to pretend that it's all fine. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah," he said reluctantly. He wondered how much of their conversation the Gamemakers were cutting out. "That makes sense. So what are you doing now? Surely you don't want to win only to be forced into being a perfect Victor."

"Maybe I'll try and save someone," she said thoughtfully. "Help someone else, since I can't get myself out."

"And who do you want to save?"

She hesitated. "Leo. And not just because I think he's alright. He's almost a genius. I think he could honestly do really good things for his district. Also, he has no one at home who the Capitol can use to control him."

They were crossing dangerous territory now, and simultaneously decided to not continue the discussion in this direction.

They had caught two fish between them, and they returned to camp. Calypso managed to make a fire with bark and twigs, and they roasted the meat quickly before the smoke became too visible, just in case the Careers were close enough to see it.

Calypso then asked: "Earlier you asked me who I wanted to save. I assume you have a person in mind, too. You seem like the self-sacrificing helper type."

He wasn't sure if she meant it as a compliment or not, but he answered, "Nico."

"I don't know where he is," she said apologetically. "I left the bloodbath early."

"I barely escaped." He held up his stitched-up arm for her to see. "I guess he's in the forest. Most people are. I'm pretty sure Leo is too, actually."

"And little do they know," Calypso mused, staring at the rushing river, "that the rainforest has no water. It's all in the desert."

◼▲◼

Luke was doing fine. Full backpack, a sword at his side, and pastries to keep his hunger at bay.

But it was day four, and he still had yet to find Annabeth and Thalia.

Obviously, they weren't going to be wandering around. He'd only seen Calypso once on the first day, and thought he saw maybe the girl from 12 yesterday.

He finished off the dessert and wiped his mouth. It still jarred him when he didn't feel the long scar that used to go down one side of his face. His stylists had gotten a doctor to fix it up, and the only evidence of its existence were memories.

Taking the Peacekeepers' bet to sneak into the mayor's garden and steal a stupid apple from a tree had been a terrible idea. The pit bulls had nearly torn him to shreds.

A string of green darted across the path.

What the heck?

At first, he thought it was a snake, but it was actually a lizard pulling a bunch of vines behind it. He nearly ignored it, but he realized that there was only one person he knew who would make a signal like that.

 _Annabeth_.

He slowly followed the lizard around. The green tail ensured that he wouldn't lose it. Soon he began noticing the vines tied to branches, and that the reptile continued in that direction, probably because its home was near where Annabeth was staying.

After half an hour, he passed a snare, and then a few more. Finally he came to a cave wall covered with leaves. Leaves that only someone from the textile district would know had to be woven...

Luke pulled them aside and slipped inside. Annabeth and Thalia were busily drawing a map on the wall with what was probably berry juice, and they jumped when he came in.

"LUKE!" Annabeth ran over and hugged him. "Thank goodness. Did you find my trail?" She took his duffel bag and surveyed its contents.

He grinned. "The lizard and vines? Yeah. Very creative." He glanced over her shoulder and saw Thalia backed against the wall, staring at him blankly.

"You okay?" he asked, before he could realize what was wrong.

Thalia stared at the ground. "Nothing. I mean, I'm glad you're here. You just...look like Jason."

He sobered. "I'm sorry."

Thalia sighed and turned away.

Annabeth was nodding approvingly at his supplies, then she gazed up at him warily. "What happened with Silena and Charles?"

He'd been dreading to answer this, but thankfully he had a lot of time to craft his answer. "I ended up staying at the Cornucopia with both of them. Charles tried to stop me, and we fought. He ended up killing Silena when she tried to defend me, and then I killed him."

She stared at him intensely. "Okay," she said finally. "I guess it was unavoidable. Next time let's just stick to disadvantaging them rather them killing outright."

"Yeah," Thalia agreed, "the other tributes could have siblings at home too."

Luke couldn't help feeling a little frustrated. Yes, he was sure that even the Careers all had families and friends that'd miss them if they died, but humanizing the other players only made them harder to beat.

Plus, all but one were dying anyway, so why couldn't it be him that did the job? Maybe now District Eight would get more attention. The Capitol's eyes used to skip straight over them. After all, they were just factory workers.

Only he figured nobody would appreciate his reasoning, so he asked, "So what's the plan?"

Annabeth made her thinking face, "For now, survive. Between the two of us, we've got enough food and water to last us a few days while we wait for the competition to thin. Oh, and tell me what you know about the rest of the arena, along with anyone you saw."

Luke told her, leaving no details. Thalia listened in with a sort of detachment that implied she honestly didn't care whether she lived or died.

He didn't know much. He explained how before setting the fire in the Cornucopia, he'd made a "safe house" near the middle of the forest, where he'd stored extra clothes and weapons. The rest of the rainforest was pretty much the same as where they were now — no water.

He'd briefly gone to the meadows to see what it was like, and Annabeth became very interested when he described it as so cold it ought to be snowing.

"I've figured out the arena," Annabeth said. "Well, I suspected for a while, but now I know for sure."

"What?" he asked.

"The climates are flipped," she explained, and the four puzzles pieces abruptly slid into place. "The desert has all the rain, and the rainforest has nothing but cold nights and dying plants. The only reason it's not very hot here is because the trees block the sun. So since temperatures at the meadows are near zero, the tundra must be fairly mild. I'm willing to bet there's even vegetation."

Thalia began to look interested, "You're really smart."

Annabeth shrugged, "I guess. Anyway, the rain must've been the first hint at what's going on. Tributes who entered the desert from another region should be close to figuring it out if they haven't already. At some point everyone will know the forest might not be the ideal place to be."

She frowned, "But the thing is, there's going to be more. Obviously the Gamemakers will push us together somehow. The forest is massive and not everyone would risk leaving it for the other areas, where they'll be much more out in the open."

And she turned out to be right, because just as she'd finished the sentence, they heard, once again, the telltale pitter-patter of raindrops. This time it was nearby — definitely within the forest.

But when the three went out to collect some drinking water, they were met with an entirely different scene from what they'd imagined.

In the near distance, the trees were blackened and sagging. Desert creatures scurried for their lives, and the bitter smell of burning life filled the dry air.

It was raining acid.


	12. "Sand"

_"Think I should press it now?" Rick asked. He was sitting before the Head Gamemaker's master control table, his hand poised over the green button — the one that'd set the arena in motion._

_President Clair watched the cameras, trying to locate the blondie. "Do it," she said finally, "let's shake things up."_

_Rick turned around and addressed the other Gamemakers, "Cameras at the ready! I have a good feeling about this one."_

◼▲◼

Annabeth ran straight back into the cave and began throwing their supplies together, knowing the rain would soon come flooding in. Her allies quickly followed, and soon they were racing away from the acid rain.

Her heart pounded as they leaped tree roots and ducked under low branches. The shower closed in on them at the same pace as their running, so they were forced to continue on until it eventually stopped a half hour later.

Now they were in the middle of the forest after having been near the edge of it. The three collapsed against some trees, too exhausted to find a proper hiding place.

She couldn't see anyone around, but she made sure to keep an eye out. "Do we still have all our supplies?"

"Dropped a sword," Luke panted, "but I have another one."

Thalia had her head against the tree and lay there unmoving. Annabeth gently removed her backpack and looked through it. "Everything's here. We're lucky that our things weren't spread out all over the floor."

"We've got to find shelter," Luke said after a few minutes, standing up, "and set up some snares."

"I'll find shelter. You do the rest and we'll meet back here in an hour."

"Got it."

Annabeth crouched next to Thalia, "Thalia? How are you holding up?"

"Fine," Thalia rubbed her nose, then got to her feet. She still looked fierce, despite the grieving look on her face. "Don't worry about me. I want to survive too. Snares, you said?"

"Yeah."

"I'll get to it."

Annabeth tied an extra shirt around a branch to mark their meeting place, then they parted ways. They weren't near any caves this time, so she walked around, searching for a sturdy tree with thick leaves.

She suddenly heard a faint yelp and cursing from Luke.

Annabeth managed to locate him and ran over, "What is it?"

"Stay there," he was backing away from something. "There's a nest of scorpions under that rock." He was pointing at a flat chunk of stone by a tree trunk.

"How many?" she asked.

"Three, I think." Seeing her face, he asked uneasily, "What?"

"If they're venomous, we could use their poison."

He stared at her, "That's smart. So what's the plan?"

"Think you could hit them all fast enough?"

"I think so."

She walked up to the stone, ushering him closer. "I'll lift it up this way," she gestured. "Stand right beside me and stab them. The scorpions shouldn't be able to see where you are."

Luke unsheathed his sword, "Ready."

Annabeth hefted the rock, and he stabbed and sliced with his weapon.

He got two, but one escaped with a chopped-off pincer, leaping nimbly out of view and into the brush.

Putting his sword away, Luke eyed the dead arachnids warily, "I'll uh, leave you to it."

She nodded, waving him away. She plucked some large leaves and wrapped up the scorpion bodies, studying the stinger. There was a bulb at the end of its tail, just before the point. She'd figure out how to get the venom out of it later.

The floor she was kneeling on felt strangely hard-packed. Almost like she was on metal. Before she could mull this over, she heard rain and thunder. Her instinct was to drop everything and run again, but it was distant, in the desert.

She stowed the remains in her backpack and continued her search. And a few minutes later came the earthquake.

◼▲◼

When the earthquake hit, Leo nearly fell out of the tree. Travis was checking out the rain from earlier and hadn't returned. When he was gone it'd rained in the desert too, which was starting to really aggravate him.

He was propped against the trunk with his legs out — the injured one resting along a large branch while the other hung on the side. He held the branch under him tightly as he was jerked back and forth.

Pain went up his leg and he grit his teeth, forcing himself to be still. He heard a cannon and assumed the worst — that Travis was dead.

He forced himself to think positive and kept holding on. He wasn't sure how long it lasted, but eventually, the shaking stopped and he relaxed. His hands were scraped from clutching the rough bark so tightly.

Travis returned in about twenty minutes. "You okay?"

"Yeah. What about you?"

"Fine. Anyway, the rain was acid. It burned down the trees and everything. Don't worry, we weren't very close. I guess they're trying to squeeze the tributes together."

At that second, they noticed a parachute falling nearby. An artificial breeze expertly directed it right into Leo's lap.

He opened it up and found a pillbox containing a single white tablet.

Sponsors didn't give out anything expensive in the first few days — the value of the gifts increased the longer you lasted in the Games — so it wasn't some miracle pill that'd instantly fix his leg.

Still, he swallowed it dry, hoping it'd at least speed the healing process.

Travis took the parachute and fiddled with it, "We could use this to bait someone. Lure them somewhere, you know?"

Leo just nodded, wondering what his ally was planning and knowing he probably couldn't help. He hated how useless he felt.

Tucking the parachute in the duffle bag, Travis squinted at the ground. "I really wonder if there's more to the earthquakes. Maybe it does something in the other zones."

A rainy desert and a dry rainforest, Leo thought. He wondered what else the arena had in store.

◼▲◼

Rainstorms in the desert should be outlawed. Calypso and Will had definitely not been in the best place to get caught in it.

The earth around the oasis was solid, but they were in the dunes looking around. The downpour turned the dunes to quicksand, and Calypso sunk in straight to her shins as they tried to make their way back. It was definitely unnatural.

And as if things couldn't get any worse, there was an earthquake. The sand shifted and Calypso dropped in to her waist.

Heart pounding, she through back to what she'd learned in the Training Center. She lay back and moved her arms, propelling herself back to the surface as if she were swimming. The rain stung her cheeks and eyes, but at least it was just water. Her legs were still half in, and sand coated her neck, but her mouth was above ground and that was all she needed to survive.

Will was shouting at her, and she turned her head to see him on his stomach, limbs spread out like a starfish as he inched himself towards a cactus. "Come on!" he yelled, words almost lost in the thunder.

Calypso grabbed two tent poles from her bag and lay them flat on the ground to support herself as she rolled around, then followed him.

It was slow going and she was beginning to be terrified of drowning. District 7 had neither quicksand nor bodies of water, so this fear was new and almost paralyzing.

Her hands and elbows kept sinking in, and her legs insisted on submerging themselves. It got harder and harder to pull them out as the sand liquified further, forming a suction that wouldn't let her go.

She knew that if her lower half fell in any deeper, it was game over.

A cannon boomed, and panic-stricken, Calypso checked on her companion, but he was fine. He had reached the cactus and clung on to it tightly as the earth threatened to drag him down. Calypso joined him on the other side, hands scrabbling for a place that didn't have spines.

The quake stopped, but the rain was still going. Her arms were wobbling from the effort of keeping herself up.

"Hate the desert," she gasped tiredly. "Water is overrated."

"We're lucky we didn't go too far," he responded. His face was already red from sunburn, but it must've hurt even more with all the sand coating it.

She nodded vaguely, trying to brush the wet hair off her face with her shoulder. Her wounded side ached with pain, and she noticed that the strip of green fabric around Will's forearm was turning black with blood. His stitches had reopened.

◼▲◼

Clarisse and the other Careers had been camped out a hundred metres from the forest, planning on collecting rainwater before returning to hunt.

None of them had expected a storm, or for the ground under their feet to suck them under.

Once the earthquake began and it was clear that the quicksand could be fatal, Percy immediately dropped onto his stomach. Clarisse stared at him, throwing her arms out to keep her balance, "What are you doing?"

He frantically gestured for them to copy him. "Spread out your weight so you don't sink more!"

Bryce and Piper promptly did as they were told. Clarisse was reluctant because it looked pretty stupid, but winning was important so she followed his lead. She was easily the heaviest one in the group, and it took a while to get her legs to the surface. The aching injury the stupid boy from 6 had inflicted wasn't helping either.

"Try to move the sand as little as possible," Percy shouted, just as a cannon sounded, unmistakable even among the roaring thunder.

"Oh, _easy_ ," Clarisse barked, trying to mask her terror, "the earth is really helping us right now!"

"Shut up!" Bryce snapped angrily. "Let Water Boy talk."

Percy's face was pale, and his hair looked gray with all the sand in it. "Get rid of anything too heavy, but something with a big surface area could help keep you up."

Bryce removed the axe on his side and placed it on the sand experimentally. He put some weight on it and it only sunk slightly.

Clarisse didn't have anything except her two spears, so she used those. Piper was light enough to not need much, and Percy used his sword.

"If only the Games provided shields," Piper muttered near her.

Percy glanced around, "There's nothing nearby. We need to wait out the earthquake and then crawl back to the forest."

When they finally got back to safety, they collapsed on the dirt, shaking the sand off of themselves.

Clarisse was glad she'd survived the quicksand. Her dad probably would have personally marched into the arena to pulverize her dead body if she hadn't.

Bryce was staring at Percy strangely, "Well what do you know, you're actually useful."

"Thanks," Percy shrugged, "some of the beaches back home had quicksand."

Seemingly contemplating this, Bryce continued, "And you and Piper are easily the best-looking here. You might be the one pulling in our sponsors."

"Yeah...I guess," Percy replied, clearly unsure of this.

Then Bryce turned to Clarisse, and she could tell what he was thinking. _What have_ you _done for me? Why should I let you live any longer?_

It was reminiscent of how her dad looked at her.

It ticked her off, and it had to stop rightthis minute. She marched over and yanked him up by the collar, slamming him into the nearest tree.

He winced, one hand going for his belt, but his axe was still on the floor. "La Rue," he groaned, "come on. Let me down."

"Is there _anyone_ else here who can pick you up like a TOOTHPICK?!" she roared.

"No," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

" _Clarisse_ ," Piper warned.

She released him and he rubbed at the back of his neck, which surely had a red mark now. He scowled at her, "When I'm on the Victory Tour, I'll spit on your crying family."

"Good luck with that."

◼▲◼

So far Hazel hasn't had much trouble. For the first few days, she'd melted some ice to drink and managed to make a few walls of snow in case there were winds or she had to conceal herself.

Berry patches and the gift of lamb stew quelled her hunger, but she was getting worried that the Gamemakers would be so bored of her they'd send something.

She wasn't sure whether to take the peace and quiet as good or bad. If she wasn't dead now, it meant the other tributes were giving the Capitol enough entertainment.

Although the days were mild, the nights were cold, and now she wanted out.

She packed as much food as she could carry, a full water bottle, and her backpack full of supplies from the Cornucopia. Then she set off, maintaining a brisk pace to keep her body temperature up.

It was the middle of the fourth day when she reached what was perhaps the halfway point between her original position and the edge of the tundra. The floor was covered in dirt now, the grass blades delicately dusted with powdered snow. She could hear heavy rain in the desert, and wondered which zone she should go to next.

If the tundra wasn't cold, then maybe the desert wasn't hot. And she was willing to bet that the rainforest didn't have water, but since _she_ did, she'd get an advantage by going there. Nico was there, too. He was so innocent that she felt obligated to protect him.

She never expected the ground to start shaking.

Hazel slipped and fell hard, banging her elbow. She got to a kneeling position and braced herself, waiting out the Gamemakers' antics.

The trees rustled harshly, and leaves rained down. Animals were scurrying up the bark and chattering at one another.

It was strange how none of them lived underground. The rabbits she'd seen earlier had burrowed themselves into the earth.

Cracks echoed all over the area, and she thought it was branches snapping, but it was ice.

The dirt broke open two feet from her, revealing rushing blue water underneath. The ground was only soil for so far...

She crawled the other way, but there was more crackling around her, each sending a tiny vibration through her knees. The madrigal of creaks filled her ears as fractures spiderwebbed underneath her.

Hazel didn't know cold until she fell into the water.

◼▲◼

Rachel was hungry. These last two days she'd eaten nothing but nuts, strawberries, and the meagre amount of meat from a lizard she'd caught.

She had just enough energy for her daily needs, and she'd managed to conceal herself inside a large bush to get some rest. She'd ripped out the branches and leaves on the inside, and she sat there now, wrapped in her warm sleeping bag.

Her dad was the mayor, so he'd managed to send her a few things on the first day. Well, she hoped it was him. The gifts consisted of five bite-sized rolls and some socks, which she'd slipped over her hands.

The anthem played, and she reached up and nudged some branches out of the way so she could see the sky.

The girl from 10's face flashed across the clouds, and then it was over.

Rachel shut her eyes, wondering when she would appear in the sky like that. She'd take a while to die from starvation, she knew. Being the mayor's daughter, she always had just enough to eat, even if it couldn't begin to compare to someone from the Career districts.

Water, though...that was definitely a problem. She'd lost a lot from running, and she hadn't seen any source of it. The strawberries helped, but by day six she'd be keeling over.

She desperately hoped that a sponsor would help before she died.

◼▲◼

Percy was getting tired of the dying rainforest. They had managed to salvage some food from around the Cornucopia, but not enough to get through the entirety of the Games. They would have to rely on their sponsors for food and water soon.

He finished off his breakfast — a ham sandwich from their supplies — and left the group, saying he had to take a bathroom break.

When he was done with that, he found a strawberry patch and crouched down, picking through it. He could only find two of the red fruit, which he wolfed down eagerly. They couldn't for the life of them figure out which berries were poisonous and which weren't, but these he recognized and knew were safe.

He moved some leaves out of the way and froze. A shiny black scorpion was poised there. It was missing a pincer, but its tail was erect and it was clearly agitated.

Percy thought they lived mostly in the desert, and could almost hear the Gamemakers laughing at that.

It lunged at him, and he slapped it aside. He yanked his sword out of its sheath and sliced it cleanly in half. He was about to congratulate himself when his hand started to feel numb.

Raising it, he stared at the red welt smoking and oozing yellow liquid.

"Oh crap," he mumbled woozily, head spinning. It got hard to stand, and his knees buckled. He swore he could feel the venom going through his bloodstream.

"Percy?" Piper called from far away, her voice warped. "What's taking so long?"

His vision spotted, blurred and then went black.


	13. "Heart"

_"I really want to save him," Rick muttered. "I'm getting calls from frantic sponsors. He's really a favourite, isn't he? Dorkiness and looks pay off, I guess."_

_"Fine, whatever," President Clair rolled her eyes. "That boy's no trouble."_

_Rick pressed the button to let the parachute through._

◼▲◼

The Careers gathered around their spasming teammate. Holding in her panic, Piper slapped his face, "Percy, can you hear me?" The only reaction he gave was irregular breathing. She could see his pupils rolling around wildly under his eyelids.

"You've got to be kidding me," Bryce groaned at the sky. "Now we're down another swordsman!"

"Help him!" she snapped. "He's the one reeling in all the sponsors, remember?"

That got his attention. Bryce bent down, "Okay, uh, I could chop off his hand?"

Piper nearly slapped him, then actually considered his words. But Percy's arm was twitching and threaded with bulging green veins. Poison was almost always fast-acting in the arena, and it was way too late to just slice off a limb. Besides, a quick death from poison was a lot better than risking a slow death from blood loss.

"Keep his hand below his heart," Clarisse added, more helpfully. "So the venom circulates slower."

Piper propped him against her backpack and adjusted him, though at this point she knew it was hopeless. She didn't even know why Clarisse bothered to suggest something.

They didn't know how else to help. She checked his pulse, which was beating extremely fast. She sat back grimly, "There's nothing we can do." She wondered if she should say a few parting words, but Careers never did that and she didn't know him very well.

Bryce reached for Percy's belt, "I call first dibs on his sword!"

"No way!" Clarisse snapped, elbowing him. "Since when did you use swords? Let me have it!"

Piper tiredly watched them argue, not noticing the silver parachute until it fell past her face. She grabbed it. Inside was a slim box containing a syringe with clear fluid.

"Guys, _move_!" She shoved Bryce out of the way and inserted the needle into Percy's arm, pressing down on the plunger.

She pulled out the syringe, and they watched.

It took a minute for Percy's breathing to even out, and his skin slowly went back to its normal colour. Bryce made a noise of disbelief, "He got an _antidote_? No one in the previous twenty-three Games ever survived being poisoned. This is favouritism."

Piper rolled her eyes, "The sponsorships are _based_ on favouritism."

It was also the main reason they stuck together. Tributes got significantly more sponsors as a group than apart, and no one wanted to leave only to find out they weren't the one who'd won the sponsors over.

And so far things were grim. The Games usually lasted two weeks, and they weren't even halfway through. Already their supplies were destroyed, two of them had been killed on the first day, and Percy just got poisoned.

Percy turned over, drool going down one side of his mouth.

Bryce sat down heavily, chin in his hand, "Well, I guess it's a bad move to kill dear loveable Perseus."

◼▲◼

Will and Calypso did not agree on their next move.

Calypso wanted to stay in the oasis, where nothing had harmed them yet, but Will was determined to go find Nico.

"The sky is completely clear," he argued, "that means no rain. No rain, no quicksand."

"Your arm is infected," she scowled, gesturing at it. " _Look_ at it. It's gross and making you weak. It might even kill you. Do you really want to go off into the forest? Sure, it'll be better for your sunburn, but there are only more dangers there."

He grimaced, knowing she was right. "He's all alone. And if I'm right in thinking he hasn't gotten water this whole time...this is his last day."

"Back to the forest," she muttered, "I nearly died in there. Multiple times."

"You nearly died in the desert," he pointed out. "And by sand, of all things." At this, she glared at him, but he ignored her, "The Capitol can't keep sending mutts after you forever. The forest is our domain, Calypso. District 7 is lumber."

"Fine, we'll go," she decided, "you probably would have gone without me anyway. I'm simply saying that it's a bad idea. There's a ton of mutts and other tributes, and our chances of finding him are extremely slim. You understand that, right?"

"Yeah, but I'll take those chances." He hesitated, "And you don't have to come with me. I can't deny that we might be in the safest part of the arena."

Calypso shrugged, "I already told you I have no plans of winning. I just don't like how the Capitol turned my forests against me by sucking out their water and replacing it with mutated animals."

"We've got water," he said. "That gives us a huge advantage there already."

"I already said I'm coming," she rolled her eyes. "Now let's pack up so we can find Nico. Maybe even Leo."

Will got to work collecting their food — mostly fish, but also a few roots and nuts — in a makeshift bag stitched from the fabric of the waterproof tent.

Calypso had quickly sewed two more waterskins from the tent and filled them. She handed one to him, then checked that the knife she'd picked up in the rainforest was secure at her belt, and they set off.

They made it to the forest as the sky began to signal the evening. Will carefully stepped around the pointy rocks on the ground as they walked, ignoring the slight dizziness he felt at his injury. "Leo has an ally, doesn't he?" he asked, mostly to distract himself.

His companion had been occupied with glaring at the space in front of her, and she snapped out of it to respond, "Yeah, the boy from 6." Her face was impassive, "I really doubt he's in more danger than Nico, and not only because he has a friend. I'm pretty sure the president likes him. Impressed by his force field —"

She cut herself off with a startled yelp. He whipped his head around and saw that she was bent down and swearing vehemently.

"What happened?" he asked frantically. "Did you twist something? Oh..."

Her foot had fallen into a hole in the ground. " _This_ _goddamn forest_ ," she snarled irritatedly, and she proceeded to flip off the nearest tree.

Will backed up so she had room to yank herself out, but it wasn't working. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes, but I don't think I broke anything. It's just _really_ stuck —" she yanked again to no avail. "I hate this. It feels like it freaking closed on me and I can't even _move_. I really hope there's no animal in there."

He knelt down and started trying to dig at the earth, but it was unnaturally hard. Someone _really_ didn't want Calypso to survive.

And because things couldn't get any worse, they heard a sinister buzzing from above. In District 7, that was never a good sound. He looked up, which only confirmed his fears.

On a long branch just seven feet above their heads, was a nest of active tracker jackers, wasps that would chase and sting you to death. And they were getting more agitated by the second as they slowly noticed the tributes.

◼▲◼

It was the early evening of day 5. Travis had been picking berries half a mile from the tree when he met a cow. He vaguely recalled the name of the animal from school. They produced milk, he remembered. They ate grass and were generally harmless.

But Travis didn't remember them being _grey_. It was sniffing at the ground, but everywhere it went, the flowers wilted and died.

Travis backed off slowly. Poisonous breath? The Gamemakers were getting creative.

The grass was too dry and brittle, so every footstep of his sent up a loud crunch. The animal looked up, and Travis quickly averted his stare so he wouldn't challenge it by accident.

He'd gotten the barest glimpse of its eyes, but it was enough to make his stomach twist and threaten to eject all its contents.

Was its _gaze_ poisonous too?

The thing took a step forward, and Travis turned slowly and walked sideways from it, keeping it in sight of his peripheral vision.

It growled loudly and bounded towards him.

Travis swore and took off running, weaving around trees and turning frequent corners to slow it down.

The tree where he and Leo were camped was easy to climb and he could make it up to safety in no time flat, but he didn't want to lead it there. Travis took out the knife he'd stolen from the Career and continued to sprint in complicated circles, away from the shelter.

The cow wailed with outrage. It didn't give any sign of tiring, but Travis was. His muscles were still sore from evading the Careers, and every time his feet hit the dirt it felt like his legs were going to collapse at any second.

If outrunning it wouldn't work, he needed a Plan B.

He came to a stop in front of a large tree, taking a deep breath as he did so to calm himself down. He'd seen tributes do something similar in previous Games, and he hoped the Gamemakers hadn't tried creating a mutt that was immune to the trick.

The cow raced straight for him, and his hands shook as he fought the urge to run immediately.

He kept his eyes focused on the ground to avoid getting sick, which only made it worse because he had to rely on sound to gauge when to move. The stench got fouler and stronger, the sound of hooves got louder, and the urge to escape became so overwhelming that his every nerve begged him to leave.

Finally he ripped himself away, and a mass of grey fur slammed into the bark. He heard a deep bellow of pain and scuffling.

Travis had originally planned to stab it while it was dazed, but it was shaking and lashing out so much that he didn't risk it. So he ran.

He didn't dare to turn back and look, even when the roars got so loud they seemed to be resonating in his stomach.

When he was sure the cow was far enough behind and not following, he slowed down and made his way back to Leo's tree, checking his snares on the way.

He hadn't found anything, and that stressed him out. Food was running dangerously low, and so was water. He didn't want to go back to where he'd met the cow, but...

Leo was still asleep. Travis settled himself near him, rested for a half hour, then took a look at Leo's leg. It was noticeably better. He couldn't see the bone anymore, but he really doubted it'd healed enough for him to walk.

He thought back to the destruction of the acid rain. The affected area had been left a blackened land of death. If it started again, Travis needed to be able to _leave_. A second wave would definitely go far past where they were now.

And if a mutt managed to get up the tree...

"Leo," Travis whispered. " _Leo_."

He didn't react.

Travis's mind went into overdrive. He had to do it quickly. Maybe if he was fast enough, Connor would miss it. He'd be at work right now, wouldn't he? As for his parents...he hoped they were busy.

He swung himself up to a better position, trying to calm his heartbeat, which had started up again. His hand shot out and shoved Leo out of the tree.

With a surprised shriek, the boy from 3 flipped off the branch and hit another before slamming into the dirt. A bone snapped and he rolled onto his side, groaning loudly. "Travis — my arm —"

Travis climbed down and stood over him, the knife clasped conspicuously by his side. He didn't want Leo to see. He didn't want anyone to see it, including himself.

Leo's blood was seeping through the bandages, staining them bright red. He curled himself up and clutched his arm, gasping, "Travis — did you —"

Travis bent down, knife raised.

" _NO!"_ Leo hollered, propelling himself backwards. His bad leg flopped around weakly and sweat beaded over his bleeding forehead. "Please...don't."

"Let me do it quickly," Travis followed him, and his voice caught. "Leo."

"Travis —" he panted. "Travis, I don't want to die."

"Neither do I," he whispered, his hand shaking. "I want to see my little brother again. You...you don't have anyone to go back to. I do. My chances are _crushed_ if I'm with you, don't you get that?"

Leo clutched his arm, his face twisted with agony and despair, "You can't just — make this kind of — decision — for someone else!"

"I know!" he snapped. Why was he making this so hard? "But the Games are the Games. Only one person can live and we can't escape that."

"Every problem has a fix."

He laughed bitterly. "That's what the rebels thought until the Capitol killed them and created the Hunger Games. I'm sorry, Leo."

Leo looked extremely angry, and nobody could blame him. "You didn't have to _kill_ me. You could've just left me!"

Travis faltered, and the guilt got too close to catching up. "You wouldn't have made it on your own."

"And you had to thin the competition," he growled, fierce accusation in his eyes.

"Yeah," Travis muttered. His thoughts were whirling, but he desperately pushed them aside. It was far too late to undo what he'd done, and he needed to end it now. "I'm sorry."

"Did you plan this from the beginning? When we — when we first met in the Training Center?"

"Yes," he admitted, "but I changed my mind. I got delusioned into thinking we could do this together. Then you got hurt...and..."

Leo collapsed onto his back, still breathing hard from the pain. "I can't believe you."

"I'm sorry." He was hyper-aware of how many times he'd said it. The words felt like sand in his mouth. Maybe if he let them out enough his throat would stop feeling so dry.

Travis could feel Connor's ring on his finger, and it made the knife seem heavier in his hand. His promise came back to him, that he would do anything to win.

_I'm coming back to you, Connor. Bet on it._

Leo had his eyes closed in surrender, so he plunged the knife into his heart. In a few seconds, the cannon boomed, and Travis was officially a murderer.


	14. "Dream"

_Rick couldn't believe he was right. Travis really had been near his breaking point. President Clair wasn't too happy though, and she was staring open-mouthed at her screen. "He's dead."_

_His sarcasm was dripping, "Well yes, that tends to happen when one gets stabbed in the heart."_

_She slapped his popcorn, scattering the buttery kernels across the floor, "Do you have any idea how angry I am? That boy could've done so much for us."_

_"He already did._ _It all went perfectly as planned._ _Look, the ratings are going up! Betrayal, tragedy, a heartfelt conversation, and death. The ingredients of my perfect drama."_

_Clair stormed off, and_ _Rick watched her go before turning back to the screens, rolling his eyes at her lack of enthusiasm._

◼▲◼

Calypso felt a piercing sting on her arm, and she resisted the urge to hit at the tracker jacker that'd got her. Killing one would only spur the others' anger.

The droning got louder, and they were already surrounded as the wasps circled them suspiciously, crushing the chance for Will to run. Calypso paused to yank out the stinger and flip up her jacket collar to protect her neck.

"There's a parachute," Will gasped, and he stood up to get it.

Calypso got out her knife and sliced the laces on her boot, hoping to slip her foot out and abandon the shoe.

It was still too tight at the bottom, and she couldn't wrench it out. "I hate you, Gamemakers. So, so much." She stabbed the earth right next to her shoe and started digging.

Will had returned with a box of matches. "The smoke will sedate the wasps."

"Well hurry up!" Another stung her on the other arm. It began to hurt whenever she moved the knife, but at least she could wiggle her foot now.

He seized a branch and wrapped it quickly with twine before lighting two matches and setting it on fire. He wafted it around under the nest.

They both held their breath as the buzzing quieted to a dull hum, and the tracker jackers slowly returned to their home.

Calypso's foot popped free, and she pulled her boot out and they decked it.

"That was _way_ too close," Will panted as they ran. "Did you get stung?"

"Yeah, twice in the arms. You?"

"Face," he pointed, and she saw two punctures on one cheek that was quickly swelling. "And my hand. I've pulled them out already, but..."

She paled, "Then you've got it much worse. We need to find shelter before the hallucinations begin."

Calypso could recognize the leaves for treating tracker jacker stings, but she didn't see them as they trudged through the forest.

She asked Will if he'd spotted any, and her brain took a long time to put the sentence together, "Do you see...any of the...you know, plants for treating...?"

He'd turned his head at her voice, but he just blinked at her, "You have tree bark for skin."

Her hopes fell, "Come on." She managed to drag him to a tree and get him to stay put as she climbed, then helped him up.

There was an impossible amount of moths all over the tree, covering it like a rippling white blanket. "Hallucination," she chanted to herself as the insects crawled over her hands. "Hallucination. Hallucination."

"Calypso," Will mumbled as he slumped against the tree, weakly cradling his infected arm. His skin was turning into a rainbow of colours.

"...What?"

"We'll miss the anthem."

Then he fell unconscious, and Calypso slowly realized what he meant. They would be out for a day if they were lucky, days if they weren't, and they wouldn't know who'd died in that time. They wouldn't know whose cannon had fired a few hours earlier.

It took a minute for her to black out, the venom filling her dreams with nightmares of the ones she'd loved.

◼▲◼

"Have you got any other ideas?" Luke asked, prodding at the lizard they'd cooked for breakfast. They were sat on the ground in a woody area with enough foliage to provide cover.

Annabeth took a sip of water. Luke's return had brought on a whole lot of sponsors. The Capitol loved a devious plan, and she'd counted on that.

She addressed his question, "Why do you think I'm bursting with ideas?"

"Because you are."

"Well," she said, "I thought of using the parachute as bait. Or filling it with poisoned food and dropping it near someone. I'm not sure if we'll have to use it though."

He nodded, going back to the food. "It's a good plan though. Shall we go over who's left?"

"Sure." She put her food down and started counting on her fingers, "We've got the four Careers, who as far as we know are still in the forest and haven't split up, which usually happens when it's the final eight. Then the boy from Six, whose ally died yesterday. He must be in the forest too; I saw him run here at the beginning. Same with the girl from Six."

"I think it's possible he killed his ally," Luke added. "That guy's clever and I don't like the look of him. I swear he died at the bloodbath, but it turned out he faked his death. It's the first time anyone's done that, too."

She nodded, "Noted. Then there's the two from Seven, the girl being the first to use the bombs as a weapon. They weren't in an alliance, and the boy might still be in the desert after being wounded by Clarisse."

"Then we've got Nico from Twelve. I think he's also in the forest."

She hesitated, "I'm surprised he's alive, honestly. People from there tend to die within days. Anyway, that's twelve of us total, and the odds are that the vast majority are all here." She looked at her friend, "Do you realize how close we might be to each other if that's true? The acid rain cut down the size of the forest by a huge margin."

Luke ripped a slice of bread into bite-size pieces as he thought, "Is it pushing everyone to the hill or only out of the forest, do you think?"

"We know it also rains in the desert. I think to the hill, but we can't be sure. Feasts are usually at the Cornucopia, too, so I imagine they'd keep it at the center."

They ate in silence for a while. Thalia was roaming the forest, hunting for food. In the Training Center, Annabeth had advised her allies to train with the knife, because it was so versatile and the most likely weapon to find in the arena.

Thalia had taken a liking to the spear though, and Luke had remembered and taken one from the Cornucopia for her.

Luke didn't really talk to Thalia anymore. Annabeth wondered if he was frustrated that she was grieving over her brother.

"You can't fault Thalia," Annabeth said, knowing from his face that he was thinking about her too.

"I'm not," he said defensively. "I just — she hasn't done much. We saw a fox earlier and she ruined most of the meat by hitting it in the stomach."

She glared at him, "She couldn't possibly have known that the stomach releases acid. She worked in a district with virtually no animals. We know it because I learned about it in training. And besides, can _you_ hit a running fox in exactly the right place?"

"Yeah, you're right," he said reluctantly, "but she was the one who woke it up."

"I'm not having this argument with you. I want Thalia with us and that's final. She's our friend."

Luke stared at her strangely, "Three people can't win, you know."

"And that was never my plan." Annabeth was done with him and turned away. The ring her father had given her rested on her in the hollow between her collarbone, strung through with a necklace. It had been her mother's first, and it made her feel closer to her. Smarter, even.

Luke just sighed.

◼▲◼

Rachel thought she'd make it to the end of the night. How was it possible to feel even thirstier than she did before?

She wondered why she hadn't received water. Either the audience didn't like her, or other tributes were more in need. She didn't know how in need she had to be to get anything, because she felt very close to death.

The trees were dead. That fact got more apparent the more she observed, and the more she withered herself.

What was her dad doing? Was he calmly paying bills, eating lunch, and chatting with Peacekeepers like usual? Or was he actually watching the Games?

Rachel had always said that her parents didn't care about her. She just never thought she'd die to have it proven.

She was camouflaged well. She'd shorn her hair short and covered herself with dirt. It didn't stick since it wasn't mud, but it worked well enough that when the Careers passed her, they didn't see her at all.

Rachel wished she had her paints. Maybe if she had lasted long enough, a sponsor would have gotten her some.

Standing up made her head spin, and she already had a headache. Her skin felt dry and feverish, and all she wanted to do was lie down and take a nap.

Her whole body ached now, and she resigned to lean against a tree and take what was coming. She wanted to at least die sitting up.

Her finger moved on the dirt, tracing a spiralling pattern of roses and hydrangeas, daisies and tulips. She had always liked flowers...

She shut her eyes, drifting in and out of consciousness until she stayed under. The pain had stopped, and she imagined that she was back in her own soft bed that so often smelled like cheap paint.

Rachel never heard her own cannon.

◼▲◼

Two days passed without much event besides another earthquake, and Thalia was restless. It was now the eighth night in the arena, and there had been no cannons since the one for the redheaded girl from Six.

She wanted to quickly go check on the snares. Nighttime was actually the safest time to go hunting. If Thalia went solely by the light of the moon, she was invisible to other tributes.

Luke had reluctantly offered to change the bandage on her right shoulder before she left, and she took that as a sign that he was trying to get on Annabeth's good side. The wound had reopened half a dozen times as she'd tossed and turned in her sleep or used her arm too much.

It worked as a distraction for her bereaved pain, but she knew her allies wished she would rest and let it heal before it got infected.

Luke patted it, "Done. Don't let it bleed again, alright? " She stood up and started down the tree, wincing as her wound still stung as she lowered herself down.

The first two snares she passed didn't have anything. She scoured the forest floor, taking the time to look up at the trees as well. Annabeth had seen a pair of owls once, and she had to be careful not to walk under any tributes.

Her bandage was too tight, she thought angrily, and it was making her arm numb. Another subtle way for Luke to spite her. He was always so bitter about her presence. As if it'd been _her_ choice to lose her little brother. The one nice thing he'd done was get her a spear from the Cornucopia, but that was back when he'd deemed her "useful".

She wasn't sure why Annabeth was so adamant on keeping her with them, only that she had a big plan she wanted them all to be part of, but hadn't completely ironed out the details yet.

The third snare had caught a writhing squirrel. She dropped down, her hand reaching for her hunting knife at her right.

There was an unmistakeable stabbing pain in her upper arm, which went numb. Her mind suddenly went dizzy as pain spread across her shoulder. Maybe she should adjust the bandage. She pulled down her jacket to see green veins spreading from her skin.

Her mouth fell open in realization. She fumbled with the knife and managed to get it in her other hand, and she haphazardly sliced off the white fabric.

As the bandage dropped to the floor, a black stinger tumbled out.

She felt sick, in more ways than one. She wondered if she should warn Annabeth, but what if she had a hand in this? Besides, it might take too long, and moving would merely make the poison circulate faster.

There weren't other options though, so she took off her backpack and began crawling back to their shelter with her heart pounding in terror. " _ANNABETH!"_ she yelled.

No response. Luke might be keeping her distracted. She shook her head frustratedly. What could Annabeth do anyway?

Still, she pressed on. Dying from poison was not the death she wanted, and she cursed Luke for giving it to her.

Tears pricked her eyes even harder than the sting. As the salty droplets splashed on the dirt and she collapsed, she turned over onto her back, her spasming arm unable to support her any longer.

Clouds floated across the perfect sky, which was blue the way it rarely was in real life. It was blue like Jason's eyes.

"I'm so sorry, little brother, but I'm coming to protect you now."

◼▲◼

Once the dark feelings of mourning had dulled, Annabeth couldn't help feeling uneasy at Thalia's death.

When her face had flashed across the sky, Luke had dismissed it as murder by another tribute, reminding her of what she'd said about many people being in the forest with them.

It was probably stupid, but she was walking the path Thalia had taken at what was probably three in the morning, searching for clues under the moonlight.

The leaves got more plentiful, with more trees ripped of their leaves. It meant a hovercraft had been here. She walked faster, keeping a close watch for movement. There were a backpack and spear on the ground.

Thalia's hunting knife lay next to it, a crimson sheen of blood shining on the blade.

Annabeth froze, scanning the area warily and keeping a firm grip on her dagger. An attack from another tribute didn't make sense. They would have taken at least _some_ of her supplies. And if it was a mutt, there'd be more of a mess.

After more rooting around, she found a white bandage stained with blood.

Her mind flashed back to the knife, _Why would Thalia cut off her own bandage? And so carelessly, too?_

She unfurled the bandage. Mixed in with the blood were black fragments of a shell.

Annabeth dropped it, stumbling back. "No no no no _no_."

When she had returned to their tree, she still did not dare to believe it. All the evidence was against him, but she had to be absolutely sure, because it _couldn't_ be, even it had to. She ripped open her pack, revealing that, indeed, one stinger was missing.

She held her dagger out in front of her as she harshly shook Luke awake. His eyes flew open and he nearly impaled himself as he sat up, "Annabeth! What —?"

" _Luke_ ," she gasped. "You put the stinger under Thalia's bandage! You killed her!"

He blinked at her. The silence dragged on for way too long, and he knew it. Finally, he spoke. "How did you know?"

"Because I _know_ you, Luke. I could tell something was up. You barely had any reaction when Thalia's face showed up minutes after the cannon. Then I went and found the stinger."

He scowled fiercely, "I can't believe it. I'd timed it so that I'd simultaneously have an alibi and prevent you from investigating the cannon. I'd —"

"I don't care how you planned it!" she cried, straining to keep her voice low. "Why did you do it?"

"You know why," he snapped. "It's one less contestant. She wasn't even that much of a contribution."

" 'One less contestant'?" she raged, removing the knife and driving it into a branch. "What is wrong with you!? Have you forgotten our ENTIRE PLAN?"

Annabeth hadn't meant to blurt it out, but she was lucky that'd been it.

"Plan? _Plan?!_ " he shouted. "Oh, you mean —" she hit him, and he lowered his voice to a hiss and covered his mouth, "you mean trying to get all three of us out? That's insane, Annabeth, and you know it. At least with only two of us, it'll be much easier for one of us to win. Winning is what actually gives us something, not escaping."

"You didn't give her a chance!" she snarled. "The least you could do was not kill her. That was it! You gave her a death she never would have wanted. Why didn't you trust me?"

"I'm increasing _our_ chances!" he snapped back. He reached out to touch her shoulder, but she leaned back and he dropped his hand. "Why is that so hard for you to understand? If there's finally a victor from District Eight, maybe it'll finally be the golden district. Our people will stop dying in factories!"

"People are dying _everywhere_ , Luke! What makes our district more deserving of help when the people of District Five live next to nuclear power plants? Was their victor from six years ago able to fix that? You think you can rebuild District Eight from the ground up just by winning?"

"I intend to _try_. Meanwhile, you — you want to run off and start a rebellion. That's suicide to think you can make a difference. It's what got your mother executed!"

His words angered her, "We talked about this long before we were reaped. Do you remember? That we'd rebel together."

"Yeah, well, not anymore! We're in the Games now, and that changes everything. What matters is that I come home alive with actual money to spend and the Capitol stays happy!"

"You want attention!" she screeched. "You keep talking about helping our district. That's something I can get behind, but I know you're lying. You want to be a famous victor! It was _always_ like this. It's you and that stupid apple tree all over again! You weren't reaching for food but recognition!"

His hand went up to touch the place where his scar used to be. He was still menacing without it. "District Eight is laughed at almost worse than Twelve. The Capitol thinks all we do is weave and dye fabrics, well I'll show them! And if I really do win, then yeah, I'll help feed the poor. And I'll move my crazy mother far far away from me. It doesn't matter how many others I have to kill for it. At least _I_ have good reasons. I can make District Eight better. I know I can."

"Those are empty promises like the Capitol's." And before he could protest, she asked quietly, "And what about me?"

He faltered, "What?"

The anger gone, her voice wavered with sadness instead, "You keep saying 'I'. Am I dead in your dream vision of the future?"

Luke stared at her for a long time. "Better you than me."

Ignoring her stunned look of betrayal, he shouldered his backpack. "Since we clearly don't agree on how we're playing this game, I'm leaving." He climbed down, snatching away her breakfast as he did.

The ability to speak left her, and he was already on the ground before she could force her words out. Years of friendship begged her to call him back. "Wait — you don't _have_ to leave. Luke!"

"Just so you know," he shouted up at her, "you're the only player crazy enough to be thinking about something more than winning. I'm doing this _my_ way."

She held back tears, scowling, "Then I'll do it mine."

He trudged out of view, not glancing back once. It was so dark out that she quickly lost sight of him, but each footfall felt like he was throwing something at her heart.

"Why?" she whispered. But she knew the answer. He wanted fame and thought he deserved it more than anyone else, so much so that he'd break his promise of staying the way he was, and his promise of family.

Still, she would be asking him why for the rest of her life, however long that would be.

Annabeth rubbed her eyes. She'd lost two friends in less than a day, but at least working solo gave her two options instead of one. If she wanted to survive, she could now win as well as escape.

Their entire conversation had been dangerous territory, so she glared up at the sky, knowing the cameras could see her even through the leaves.

She willed out her most authoritative voice, the same one she'd used to win over the audience during her interview. "I know that all may have sounded bad, but you _really_ don't want to kill me, Head Gamemaker. I've got a brilliant plan that you'd love to see."


	15. "Team"

_"What did I miss?" President Clair asked, arriving at the table with a scowl. "And how have you managed to use up half a box of tissues?"_

_"Oh, Luke killed Thalia," he wiped his eyes. "He and Annabeth broke their alliance."_

_She stared at the screens for a second, likely trying to remember who he was talking about. "Oh, them."_

_"Do you still want Annabeth dead?" he asked curiously. "That's the blonde one."_

_"I know who Annabeth is. She hasn't done or said anything against the Capitol, has she?" At his innocent head shake, she shrugged, "Then no, I don't care what she does. She seems to be exactly like everyone else."_

◼▲◼

Calypso woke up alone. And even though that was normal, she worried about where Will had gone.

It was the anthem that had woken her, and she glanced up in time to see the girl from 5.

The first thing she did was check her stings. They were healing fine, and when she grabbed a branch and tried to stand, she found that she could without her head spinning.

Will had gotten more venom than she did, and with a sinking heart, she realized he must have stumbled off in a hallucinating daze.

But his backpack was gone, so that was a good sign.

They _had_ wanted to break off the alliance so they could cover more ground while they searched for Leo or Nico. .Just not in a way that left no warning or chance to say goodbye.

She tried to gauge how many days had passed by how sore and hungry she was. Three, most likely. Maybe even four. She had been really tired before.

There wasn't any way to find out who had died in that time, or even if _Will_ was alive. 

She felt like she was back home in District 7, anxiously watching Odysseus and then Drake in the Games. Back then, she'd only had one idea whether or not they would come back: that they probably wouldn't.

It was like that now. About Leo, about Will, about everyone. There could be three people left for all she knew, and all she had was hope. And that made her feel alone and helpless. Hope was for those who had no other option.

Calypso shouldered her bag. No, she had options. She could stay in the forest, try out the meadows, or return to the desert. She could do anything.

She could find Leo.

◼▲◼

"Our sponsorships are dwindling," Bryce announced, his patience wavering to the point of snapping.

"We know," Clarisse scowled. "It's pretty hard to miss that we've only been eating two meals a day."

_Annoying._

Clarisse especially, but they all annoyed him. Bryce never had friends or family, and he was glad for it now. No one he spent more than a few days with could stand him, and vice versa. _People_ were annoying in general, and nobody understood him.

Well, there was _one_ person that he found interesting.

Bryce watched Piper braid her hair with dull fascination. The way she could comb out all the dirt and leaves to make herself presentable was honestly impressive. She saw him looking and assumed he was expecting her to talk. "Well, I think it's a sign that there's going to be a feast."

He brightened and grinned appreciatively, "Aha. That would be perfect. Now we can finally fight something besides mutts."

Clarisse grumbled, "We would be able to find people if you and Piper didn't argue so much. It _really_ gives away our location, in case you weren't aware."

It _was_ strange that Piper kept insisting on picking fights with him when she was the one who used to criticize him for quarrelling with Clarisse, but he chalked it up to her finally getting feisty.

Percy though, just sort of sat around not doing anything. Although the forest wasn't any of their domains, it was the least appealing to Percy.

Clarisse had started calling him Prissy, and Bryce, wanting to jump on the bandwagon of bullying someone, started calling him Pacy. It was short for both passive and pacifist.

"So we stick together for the feast," Bryce said, ignoring Clarisse's comment. His excitement was blossoming too much to be bothered by her. At last! Something exciting to satisfy his bloodlust.

Percy yawned, "Can we go to sleep now? I feel like the moon's glaring at me."

Bryce only had to ignore Pacy for a few days longer...

Because when it's the Final Eight, they'll break the alliance and hunt each other down. Surely it won't take too long.

◼▲◼

Nico wished his sister were here. In the months she'd been hiding in District 11, he had gotten used to missing her and trusting that she was alright and coming back. This time was different because he knew she wasn't.

He'd nearly walked into the Careers _again_ , which made sense since the forest was smaller now and other tributes were probably hiding whereas the Careers hiked around.

Nico made a point to only move at night when it was hard to get spotted. But that also limited him to walking in the cold. He hoped the exercise would keep him from getting hypothermia.

Someone was stumbling around about a hundred meters away, so loudly Nico could hear them clearly despite his permanent tiredness.

He shuffled behind a tree and tried to make out who it was.

The moon lit up the guy's curly blond hair, and Nico realized that it was Will. Deciding that he couldn't leave the other boy to die, he ventured into the open and stopped in front of him.

Will was sunburnt and had two punctures on his cheek, which had swollen disproportionately. He stared at him oddly, "Nico? Oh, wow, yep, I'm hallucinating."

Nico tried to steady him, "You're not hallucinating."

"That's what a hallucination would say."

Nico resisted from rolling his eyes and cast a wary look around them. "Can you not talk? Or be that loud?"

"Sure," he said. And then promptly collapsed.

It was hard to gauge what to do next. It was too dangerous to try to get Will up a tree. And he had stick arms and bad coordination, so that really wasn't an option at all. Dragging _himself_ around already required too much energy.

"Will," he hissed, poking him in the head. "You need to get up. I'm weak and dying so I can't lift —"

He raised his head so fast Nico nearly jabbed him in the eye, "You're dying?"

"Um," Nico said, "yeah. I've been really cold for a while and I'm worried I'm sick. I also got stabbed on day one."

"Oh my god," he said, sitting up, "let me see."

"This isn't a good place for that," he warned.

Will tried to stand. "The forest sucks," he managed, pushing his sweaty hair back. "We should get out. I only came here to find you."

Nico stared at him in disbelief, "Seriously? Why?"

"We're a team, remember?" he managed to stay upright, though he was leaning on his shoulder. "Oh wait, I shouldn't do that. You're dying. Where were you stabbed?"

"Here," Nico pointed at the side of his back, and Will nearly fell over while craning to look at it. "I got bandages and kept it wrapped up. Listen, I made a shelter. It's basically a bunch of leaves and branches scattered over a fallen tree, but it will be very hard to see us."

"It sounds like it's really easy to see, honestly."

"Come on. The earthquakes have knocked down a lot of trees so it really isn't that conspicuous."

"So _that's_ what those were..." he mumbled, staggering after Nico. "Earthquakes."

They were stopped in their tracks by a silver parachute. Nico blinked at it uncomprehendingly. Will seemed to have woken up completely through sheer determination, and he was the one that pointed it out, "Nico, we got sponsored."

Nico picked it up, then pulled Will along, "The shelter's really close. Just keep going." As they went, he opened the parachute and found a metallic container filled with two different ointments. He handed it to Will, "Must be for you."

He took it and sniffed both sides, "One's for infection and the other for keeping swelling down." He suddenly held it to Nico's nose, "It smells like leaves."

Nico dodged it. "You have good sponsors."

"This didn't come until I teamed up with you," he pointed out. He scooped up some of the pale green paste and smeared it on his cheek and hand. "Has anyone died in the last few days?"

"The girls from 5 and 6."

Will exhaled with relief, "So Calypso's alive."

Nico didn't answer, and eventually they reached his shelter. "Here we are," Nico surveyed the area and ushered Will inside. He rearranged some of the leaves and branches before ducking in himself.

It was a small triangular space, big enough for two people to lie down side by side. The person closest to the tree could sit up if they were short enough, and Nico definitely was.

They lay there for a long moment, getting rest. Will offered him some water, but Nico refused, telling him he'd already gotten some from sponsors earlier.

Will tried to check out his reflection in the container, but it was too dark, and he resorted to patting his cheeks incessantly. "Do I look better now?"

Nico turned to see. Will looked good enough to win all the sponsors. "Yeah," he said simply.

"Can you help me with my arm?"

"Yeah, sure." Nico adjusted himself so he could tend to him. He started untying the jacket that was binding the injury, "How long has it been infected?"

"Four days, I think. It doesn't seem _too_ serious though."

Nico looked at it. He couldn't tell whether the statement was right or wrong. Nonetheless, it was pink and swollen around the wound, which had been loosely stitched up. "Do I just smear it on?"

Will looked at his arm, somehow not grossed out. "We don't have enough water to wash it out," he muttered. "Use the end of the jacket to clean it as much as you can. Get the other side too."

Carefully Nico followed his instructions. It felt nice to help someone else for a change, instead of letting his sister or sponsors take care of him.

After using his throwing knife to take out the infected stitches — thanks, Piper — he put on the cream and used some of his bandages to bind them.

Will convinced him to lift his shirt so he could redress the stab wound on his back and apply the medicine.

Eventually they were both done, and the two lay back down. "You're shivering," Will noted.

"Am I?" Nico couldn't tell, and raised his hands to check. Now that they weren't holding anything, it was obvious.

Will scooted closer and pressed his chest against Nico's shoulder, flinging one arm around him. "Better?"

"I guess." This was starting to make him uncomfortable, and he instinctively shifted away.

"Do you want to freeze or something?"

He suddenly had the urge to cry, and he bit it down like he'd done all week. "I don't know, maybe."

Will didn't respond for a while. Then he said, "I don't think you want to give up now that we're finally a team again."

"You're recovering from an infection and I most likely have hypothermia," Nico grumbled. "Those are hardly great odds."

"We've never had great odds, but look at us." Will nudged him, "It's the morning of day nine and we're still alive."

◼▲◼

Piper rested her cheek on her hand, trying to get comfortable on the hard ground as she slipped in and out of sleep. It really was hard to get rest in the arena, and even worse when she had nightmares.

It was always the same. She was back at the bloodbath, weapons equipped. She would throw two knives into the boy from 11, but this time he wasn't a competing player. He was an innocent boy who, unlike her, did not sign up for this.

At least she had an excuse for Katie, but with him, it had only been murder. Piper never even learned his name.

And the dream would end as she was crowned the Victor in front of a silent and motionless crowd, the ghost of the boy's terrified brown eyes still in her mind.

 _One hour_ , she chanted to herself. _I just need to get at least one more hour of rest. Then it'll be my turn to keep watch._

They were near the desert and it was raining there, but the steady shower was almost calming. She was so focused on the sound that she instantly noticed the harsh crunching of leaves.

Her eyes opened and saw Bryce bending over her. The moonlight gleamed off the knife poised above her throat.

The dagger slammed into the ground as she quickly rolled aside, missing her head but pinning her hand to the dirt.

Pain paralyzed her and she gasped in the air to scream, only to be cut off by his hand closing around her throat. It was made worse as he tried to yank the blade out, but the seconds he wasted let her mind clear, and she grabbed her own dagger and stabbed him. It was nearly a killing blow, but he'd flinched and it got his shoulder instead.

She tried kicking him, but he had placed himself out of reach. Bryce grit his teeth and twisted the knife in her hand, and her vision went dark and blurry as pain wracked her entire arm.

He knocked her other arm aside and stepped on it in his signature move. The metal spikes at the bottom meant for walking on the ice were now ripping at her skin.

But through the black spots and ringing headache, she could see his twisted smile as he raised his axe. "You put up a good fight, McLean," he whispered.

Piper wished she could speak, but her windpipe was crushed, her face going warm as she struggled futilely for breath. Wasn't Percy supposed to keep watch, too? What was he doing?

Bryce lowered the blade to tap her nose, obviously aiming. And in a last ditch effort, Piper swung her other hand and stabbed him with the knife embedded in it.

It didn't go far since the agony reflexively made her recoil, but Bryce fell and bellowed in pain at the slash across his face, and it broke through the silence like an axe through paper.

As she weakly gasped for breath, Piper heard Clarisse shoot awake and start to get her bearings. Percy was stirring.

Blood dripped past Bryce's wounded nose and eye and down his cheeks. And even though it hurt to move or breathe, Piper managed to grab a throwing knife and hurl it at his throat.

As the blade left her fingers, he lifted his hand and it sunk into his palm. "I knew you'd aim for the neck," he growled.

"LAWRENCE!" Clarisse roared, grabbing for her weapon only to find it missing. "Where the hell is my spear?! You were going to kill us?!"

"Of course not," he spat, kicking her elbow until it cracked. "It was Piper. She was about to kill you with your spear but I threw it away."

Piper tried to protest but could only let out a broken croak. It hurt to breathe and her head spun, making it hard to believe she'd even aimed that well.

Clarisse found her spear, then straightened to glare at Piper, "Are you serious? We had a deal! We're a team until the Final Eight, remember?"

Bryce smirked and wrapped up his hand with a bandage, "Exactly, McLean." He tried to flex his fingers but failed. Piper's vision cleared just enough to see his eyes flick from the knife he held to Percy for a split second.

She made a sweeping gesture. Miraculously Percy understood and leapt aside right when Bryce threw the knife. It missed him by a hair and slammed into a tree trunk.

 _"PIPER!"_ Bryce roared. He whirled to her and swung his axe down. The edge struck her chest and shattered her sternum.

Her eyes widened in shock as crimson spread through her clothes. She turned her head and coughed up blood. The pain gripped her like a vice, and she couldn't breathe...

Bryce whipped around as Clarisse attacked him and ducked under her spear, leaping out of range.

Half his face was painted with blood now, and he was clearly blind in one eye. He danced away from Clarisse again as she made a deadly jab. "MISSED ME, LA RUE!"

"COME CLOSER, YOU COWARD!" she screeched.

 _Run_ , Piper mouthed at Percy as blood dribbled past her chin. She was a goner, and if he tried to join the fight, he'd be killed by whoever won. Probably Clarisse, as Bryce was wounded and had the shorter weapon.

Percy's green eyes were sad as he stared at her. And though they had never been friends, had only known each other because they were stuck in the same death game, a sort of understanding passed between them.

He dug through her backpack, and she thought he was looking for bandages. She was about to shake her head when he came back with her blowgun. He set it in her lap and gave her a guilty look, "I'm um... really sorry I fell asleep. I guess Bryce picked me because he knew I was tired."

She managed a weak smile. _It's alright_.

"I would've loved to be friends," he continued. "I'll remember you, Piper." He brushed her hair out of her face, then grabbed his supplies and the rest of hers and took off.

Bryce and Clarisse were still sparring. Bryce had put his axe away for a dagger, using it to parry her blows whenever they got too close.

Piper weakly wrapped an arm around the blowgun, glad for the brief and painful chance to say goodbye.

And in these last moments, she understood her dad. Now she knew she was going to be free, no longer playing the Capitol's games for them.

" _Dad_..." her voice came out a barely audible wheeze. " _It's okay. I love you_."

That was the last breath she could take.

Percy would remember her. So would her dad. And maybe that was all the fame and glory she needed.


	16. "Safe"

_"Calypso is looking for Leo," Rick said aloud to the employees. The president had stopped micromanaging him in favour of other duties. "Is that entertaining or just sad?"_

_The man pointed at a screen. "Well, the viewers think both. Lots of sad comments, but they're still watching as expected."_

_Rick nodded distractedly, then pointed at a differe_ _nt screen, one that showed the general location of each tribute on a large map. "Hey, they're pretty close." He signalled to an employee in the corner. "Drive these two together, will you?"_

◼▲◼

Travis examined the blowgun in his hands and the small quiver that came with it.

The two Careers were still chasing each other and fighting it out. The third one had fled, and Travis turned out Piper's pockets but didn't find anything else.

He hid all the weapons he didn't want in a bush, and tossed Clarisse's empty backpack far off to the side as he walked away. Whether it was she or Bryce that won the fight, the one who returned would think it was Percy who had taken the supplies.

Travis gulped down some water and smiled grimly to himself. He was well off and could easily survive for a week without having to force himself to stay hungry or thirsty so as not to run out of supplies.

And with his new confidence and the weight of Leo off his shoulders, Connor felt closer than ever. He couldn't wait to see his family again.

Travis wasn't done with the forest yet, but he'd have to take a quick stop at the meadows first.

◼▲◼

This was her moment. Clarisse's spear moved like an extension of her arm. She knew how to control every piece of it, and it flashed as she swung it against Bryce's knife.

As always, he was overconfident and tried to block it. The force knocked him back and made him have to shake his arm to get the feeling back.

It would be an easy kill, she thought. Her spear sliced across his chest next time, but it didn't cut deep enough. He laughed, "Not bad!"

"Why are you so confident?!" she snapped.

He grinned, pond scum green eyes shining through his matted brown hair. "It's how I cope, silly."

She was suddenly thrown off-balance. Another earthquake had begun at the worst possible time.

Bryce was cackling. "I knew it!" he screamed. "The Gamemakers would never let me die! I am _far_ too entertaining!"

"You little —" She started to throw her spear, but stopped herself when she realized the unpredictable shaking would almost guarantee a miss.

Bryce retreated, tripping and stumbling as he went. Clarisse stabbed the ground and let him go. Clearly, the Gamemakers didn't make the odds in her favour.

Her father would be disappointed.

◼▲◼

Nico stared at the morning sky through the dead leaves of the shelter. He and Will had fixed it after the earthquake shook half of it down and woke them up.

Will shifted beside him. "Nico, who did you say died in the last few days?"

"The girls from 5 and 6," he answered automatically. Before Will came he had barely anything to think about except who had died. It should be alarming, honestly, how he was so used to people dying.

"Right. We need to get to the desert," Will said. "There's water there — a ton of it. Plenty of fish to eat, too."

"Is it safe?" Nico asked, turning to look at him. "I always hear rain there, but I thought it was acid like it is here."

Will blinked. "Wait, it rains acid here?"

"Yeah," Nico shrugged helplessly. "It destroys everything. At this point, it's worse than fire."

"Oh, well anyway, the desert is relatively safe. The worst thing is quicksand and jellyfish in the river, but if you know how to deal with them then you'll be fine. And you can see any enemies from a mile away."

"It can't be that great," Nico said skeptically. "Can it? Wouldn't all the four sections be equal somehow? Otherwise, everyone would just stick to the forest."

"Sounds like they're wiping it out with acid rain," Will pointed out.

"That's true," he admitted. "Luckily I never went far enough into the forest to get caught by rain. The only reason I survived this long was because of sponsors and more luck than I've ever had before the Games."

"Nothing attacked you?"

"I saw a few mutts, but I just kept still and they didn't come any closer. I stayed put for most of the Games."

"Do you want to win?" Will asked suddenly.

The question took him by surprise. It was odd to ask someone whether they wanted to survive, but he understood. "My parents are both dead and I just lost my sister," he said, then catching his mistake, amended, "months ago. She starved after giving me all her food. So I have nothing back home. I don't care about winning."

"I'm sorry," Will said, but although his tone was sincere, there was something strange in his face as he said it. The blond met his eyes, and Nico realized that he knew he was lying about Bianca.

Nico looked away. No one had been able to read him like this in a while. "And what about you?" he asked.

"I've got parents," he said, sounding almost guilty. "I would...really like to go back to them. You know, if you win, you can help the people in your district. Let them stay at your house, give them food..."

"Yeah," Nico said quietly. "That's their trick, you know."

Will paused, and he glanced around as if to look for cameras. "The Capitol's?"

"Yeah. They get us to go with the Games because of that small chance that we could survive and bring home money and food. So we don't realize that, hey, isn't it a lot better if the Capitol just helped us out and the Games didn't exist?"

"You've been doing a lot of thinking, haven't you?" He'd tried to say it with a laugh, but he sounded sad.

"Yeah. There wasn't much else to do before you came." Nico sat up a little and actually looked Will in the eye this time. "Since you're so sure, let's go to the desert when it starts getting dark again. The land of sunshine and death sure can't be that bad."

Will gave him a glowing smile. "That's the spirit."

Then they saw a shadow descending from above them. Nico nearly had a heart attack, but then realized it was a parachute.

He scrambled out and caught it, ignoring the chill wind. Inside was a warm camouflaged sleeping bag. He ducked back inside and showed it to Will.

"There's only one," Will noted, helping him spread it out in the cramped space.

"We'll fit easily," Nico said, opening it up and sliding in.

"I know. I'm just... you're okay with that?"

"Yeah," Nico said, ignoring the nervous feeling in his stomach. "We can't afford to have you get hypothermia too, you know."

Will joined him in the sleeping bag. It warmed up, but not fast enough. Nico was on his back, but he could tell the other boy was facing him. Will whispered, "Are you still cold?"

"A little," he admitted, not sure what Will could do anyway. The rising sun had made it warmer than the night had been, but his hypothermia refused to go away.

Moments went by, and then he heard: "What's the warmest place you've ever been in?"

Nico faced him. "What."

"I'm serious," he said, drawing his brows together.

"Okay." Nico shut his eyes and thought. It was hard, but eventually he came up with something. "I think when we have enough coal for the fireplace. And we wrap ourselves with blankets and huddle together in front of it, drinking warm water."

Will didn't ask for specifics, like who he meant by 'we' or how often there was no fire. "Okay," he said, "just think about that feeling and nothing else."

So he did, bringing his mind back to the smoldering fire, dusty wool blankets, and the security of having someone next to him.

And miraculously it got warmer, and Nico felt better than he had all week. He hadn't meant to go to sleep, but his mental exhaustion caught up with him. And soon he went under and met his dreams.

◼▲◼

Annabeth concluded that the forest would be destroyed. The acid rain was the biggest clue. It lasted for the same duration every time, and if she'd guessed correctly, the next rainfall would drive everyone out.

It rained in the desert too, and she had thought it was also acid until she saw the Careers camping so close to it, and she figured the water was safe.

Still, it meant tributes would rush to the desert instead. The meadows weren't likely to have people, and as the games got tense, other tributes always became the biggest threat.

A break was long overdue, but she had yet to find a good place to rest. The sun had gone up ages ago and she didn't want to be caught out here, even if she was pretty close to the meadows by now.

Early in the morning a cannon had fired, but she wouldn't know who it was for until nightfall.

In the meantime, she made a mental list of the tributes she definitely had to avoid: Clarisse, Bryce, Piper, and Luke.

And if Luke was right about Travis, then him too, but she figured she could outwit him. Calypso was a risky person to associate with. Will and Nico she thought would be fine if she met them.

Percy was tricky.

On one hand, he was a Career who had volunteered for the Games. He'd teamed with them and protected the Cornucopia, standing by while they killed other people. The way he held his sword was with a surety that only came from rigorous training and skill.

But on the other, every time she'd seen him had told her that he didn't mean much harm. He hadn't looked happy throughout training, eating, or the reaping. Wanting to buy a house for his mom... that stuck in her mind.

She hoped it hadn't been a ploy for sympathy, because surely people didn't get bloodthirsty over wanting a house for someone.

Annabeth kept her pace the same as she trudged through the forest, hand on her dagger. As long as she didn't speak or do anything out of the ordinary, the Gamemakers wouldn't pay attention to her.

However, that came with risks too. Being too boring meant they could easily kill her off, so occasionally she had to spice things up.

That was why she'd made that grand statement about a "brilliant plan". The problem was that she didn't actuallyhave one yet.

Yes, so far she had three different plans for escaping the Arena, but she needed a showy and dramatic decoy plan to keep the Gamemakers distracted from her true intention. But if she was lucky, there'd be a Feast and she wouldn't need one.

At last the meadows were in sight. They were more like fields, a vast land of tall grass spanning the area. Flowers grew in abundance, and the vegetation frequently shifted due to wind and what must be animals.

Avoiding fallen trees and clusters of holes in the floor made it hard to go directly there, and she was forced to weave around constantly. It got to the point where she began wondering if she was being led somewhere.

It was at a clearing when she froze, having seen someone climb over a log twenty yards away.

The tall figure was instantly recognizable. Tousled black hair, and a gleaming sword at his side.

It was Percy, and he'd spotted her too.


	17. "Red"

_The president drummed her nails on a screen. "The ones I detest are still alive."_

_Rick scowled. "You complain about that in every Games, and each turned out fine. This year is no different. What makes you think they are so dangerous? Besides, viewers love them. I can't kill them without an uproar."_

_"That was_ your _mistake," she snapped. "You make the wrong people loveable. It is not just the Capitol viewers we must consider..."_

◼▲◼

When Percy met the eyes of the blonde from Luke's district, his mind blanked. He had no idea how to react. Every part of her during training and the interview had screamed _danger_ , and if she was the mastermind behind Luke's betrayal...

He noticed that while her hands were quite casually at her hips, one rested on a dagger in a sheath, both of which _had_ to be from the Cornucopia.

Yeah, he didn't want to be near her.

Her eyes did a swift scan of him, pausing briefly at the sword and knife at his belt. Then she marched away, going into the denser copse of trees that separated forest from meadow.

She looked fearless and way too competent to be from the textile district, but she was also too smart to even engage with him. This girl was truly dangerous.

The Gamemakers were no doubt upset that the encounter was so anticlimactic. Percy was wondering what kind of commercial break they'd added — blue cookies, perhaps? — when he saw a lion slinking through the meadows ahead.

It had every appearance of a normal animal save its fur that shined like gold — _metallic_ gold.

There was a fraction of a second to decide: run for it, or warn the girl who might kill him?

Turns out he didn't need to do the latter. The girl had noticed it already, and she ducked behind a willow tree and peeked around it.

The mutt was stalking towards her barely four yards away. She breathed fast, eyes flicking around the area as she calculated the best escape route, but she wouldn't make it. And all at once he remembered that her name was Annabeth.

"HEY!" Percy shouted.

Both she and the lion turned to stare, and yeah, he did _not_ think this through.

Now the beast was coming at him. He ducked behind a tree five inches in diameter as if it could conceal him. Annabeth used the time to sling her jacket over a branch and haul herself up.

The mutt lunged around his tree, and he darted away. They circled each other, and Percy started to think of better last words than screaming.

Then a piece of bread plopped in front of it, courtesy of Annabeth. The lion sniffed it suspiciously.

In that brief moment, Percy ripped open his backpack and threw a ham sandwich as far as he could, and the mutt chased after it.

He grabbed a branch and heaved himself onto it. At least his pre-Games training hadn't been for nothing.

The lion bounded back with mayo all over its face. He'd barely made it to a higher section before its claws sunk into the branch.

Percy drew his sword and slashed at its paws, but lo and behold, its fur acted as armour. But to his relief, the mutt's strength gave out and it fell back down. The Capitol had made it unable to climb.

Now it tore at the base of his tree, claws shredding through the bark like it was paper. He swore so loudly that a Gamemaker probably had to turn down the volume.

Annabeth shouted, "Could you hit its mouth from there? With a knife or something?"

Piper would have said yes instantly. He was a decent pitcher, but knives were different, and the one he had was for close-combat. Plus, he doubted the lion would sit quietly while he chucked sharp objects at it.

His tree was weakening, so Annabeth struck the muttation with a flying stick and it changed to hers instead. She took his silence as a, _No, I can't throw for schist_. "Do you have more meat?"

He sheathed his sword and raked through his disorganized pack. "One sandwich!"

Annabeth re-balanced herself on the thin branches as the trunk began to bend. "Catch this, okay?" She'd pulled a small object out of her bag, and when he nodded, she hurled it at him.

But her willow broke in two, and her throw went wide as she toppled to the ground. She scrambled into the upper part of the tree, and the lion snapped through the branches with its teeth and claws, crunching its way to her.

"OVER HERE!" Percy hollered. He let his hunting knife fly at its half-open mouth, but it hit the shoulder and glanced off in a shower of gold sparks.

But he got its attention. As Annabeth untangled herself, he took the ham from the sandwich and waved it around like a death wish. "You want it? Do you want it?"

It roared and leapt up, coming way too close to biting off his hand.

He took out his sword and swung it around as threateningly as he could. "I'll stab you if you come up!" He looked at Annabeth. "What did you throw?"

 _Poison!_ she mouthed, likely to not call attention to herself.

"Do you have more?"

She shook her head helplessly. He was glad she didn't take the opportunity to leave him and run, but he didn't want her to die, and especially not in front of him.

It was impossible for Annabeth to get around to retrieve the poison. _Now_ was the time for his decision.

He ripped off a small piece of ham and chucked it to the side, then leapt off and scooped up the thing she'd thrown — a stinger wrapped in cloth.

Now it was Annabeth's time to be a distraction, and she yelled furiously and lobbed a thermos at it.

It clanged off the golden fur, and the mutt whirled and lunged, only to get whapped in the snout with a branch she'd been holding back.

Percy shoved the stringer into the slice of ham and flung his medkit.

Yet the lion didn't turn, probably tired of the back-and-forth. Even his heavy thermos yielded the same result. Annabeth edged around the fallen willow, putting it between her and the lion. Her dagger shook in her hand.

Then the lion vaulted over to her.

She screamed and sprinted to the side just as it landed, and she bolted in his direction. She sped right past him shrieking "THROW IT THROW IT THROW IT!"

Percy sent the meat into its open maw like a bullet.

It slowed barely two yards from him, confused that it tasted food before it even caught them. He took off after Annabeth, and they zigzagged through the line of trees along the meadow.

"Boost me!" she ordered.

He let her stand on his knee and lifted her so she could scramble onto a high branch. He hoisted himself after her right before the lion launched itself at his legs and took one of his shoes.

It returned to clawing at the bark, but slower. Was the poison working? Tiredness seemed more likely. The stinger must have gone straight down its throat without piercing anything.

He thought Annabeth was out of plans, but she absolutely wasn't. "Have you got any rope?" she asked, searching through her pack for ideas.

"Yeah," he said, bringing out several loops of nylon cord he'd intended to make a net with.

She grabbed it. "Get ready to stab its mouth."

He nodded readily. She dangled the end of the rope, teasingly wiggling it back and forth.

The mutt sprung up to bite it. She yanked the rope away and he plunged his sword down the lion's throat.

Unfortunately, when the lion slid down, one of its claws sliced open his inner forearm.

Percy stayed motionless, breathing hard and scared to move as agony raced to his shoulder. The lion yowled on the ground until it stilled, and his sword slipped through his fingers and stuck into the dirt, blood dripping onto it.

His entire hand was shining with crimson, and he panicked. "Oh my god oh my god —"

Annabeth lifted his arm and laid it on her lap. It took her some time to peel back the strips of his jacket sleeve, and only then did he dare to look at it again.

He'd seen worse from watching the previous Games, but it was different when it was so close. And his own.

Blood was spilling everywhere, and she searched through her backpack. She ripped apart a clean T-shirt and mopped up some of the blood before pressing the clean pieces to the wound. Then she bound it with bandages without missing a beat.

She was done so fast that his mom probably hadn't seen anything serious, but he could _feel_ the blood coming out of him.

"Am I going to die?" he asked frantically. He couldn't tell if his sudden urge to faint was out of blood loss or fear for his life.

"No," she said, but her face had turned grey as if she were the one injured.

And Percy suddenly realized that they were practically strangers. "Annabeth, you don't have to help me."

"You saved my life," she said, like it was already settled, and she wiped at the red on her hands. "The acid rain is coming soon. Tributes too, most likely."

Percy had been focused on the lion and then his injury, and now he remembered why he'd wanted to leave the forest in the first place. "Yeah, let's go."

She hopped down first and caught him when he followed and nearly keeled over from dizziness.

She retrieved his ripped leather boot and hurriedly gathered the stuff they'd flung about. The lion had a lot of meat, so she had him stand guard while she skinned parts of it. Percy tried not to retch as he started to understand why Piper had wanted to go vegetarian once.

And just like that, they were a team, moving through the meadows together as if they'd planned to from the start.

He didn't think about how only nine tributes remained, or how no one had ever made an ally this late in the game without seeing them die.

◼▲◼

Travis's worst mistake was taking the first opportunity he got.

Getting rid of one of the strongest tributes would be great for his odds. He just didn't take into account how it was _one of the strongest tributes_.

He loaded a poisoned dart — thanks, sponsors — and scoped the area with the binoculars he'd gotten ages ago from the Cornucopia.

The forest had finally been completely destroyed.

It might be days before he saw anyone, but it was sure to happen. The desert was definitely going down next, and at least one person would cut through the burned forest to escape from the desert to the meadows, where he hid among the grass.

And hopefully, they'd see the silver parachute he'd planted.

He had actually planned to hide in the destroyed forest, but the Gamemakers didn't seem to like that. A bunch of raccoons had come, trying to take his stuff. He guessed that there weren't enough cameras in that area.

The Gamemakers sure liked to mix it up. The meadows frosted over at night, but the days were hot like the desert. It was really uncomfortable.

Travis munched on a chunk of bread stuffed with cheese and gulped down some lukewarm water.

No one was around, and he reviewed his limited knowledge of human anatomy, trying to figure out the best places to shoot a dart.

The neck was a given. Same with the inner arms and upper legs — anywhere he could easily feel a pulse.

He was glad he'd taken the blowgun. At first he thought he'd abandon it soon, but he quickly got the hang of it. It was engineered magnificently. Despite it being only two feet long, a forceful blow was enough to send darts a clear hundred metres. And if he tilted it higher, they could go extremely far.

Moonlight glinted off steel, and he looked up to find someone running with a spear in her hand.

Travis readied his blowgun, following the girl from Two barrelling across the field. And she did notice the parachute, but to his dismay, she scooped it up without slowing.

The neck was too hard to hit at this speed. He hesitated and made a split-second decision. He aimed for the spot in her side that he'd stabbed earlier in the Games.

He knew he'd hit his mark when she came to a stop and looked around wildly.

To his frustration she'd raised an arm to protect her neck. Travis sniped at her wrist, but it struck her elbow. Then she ripped out both darts and came sprinting right for him.

He cursed and reloaded, but she'd whipped her leather jacket around to block his shots.

She was getting much too close and he didn't dare turn his back, so Travis abandoned all stealth. He rose and yanked out his poison-coated dagger.

"Hey, you're not Prissy!" she yelled, tossing her jacket aside. "You stole my stuff TWICE?"

She held up her spear, and there was no way she'd miss at this distance. No matter which way he feinted or dodged, she could adjust her aim the instant she released it.

When all else failed, he fell to trickery. Travis swung his dagger as if to throw it but didn't let go.

Her gaze followed the phantom trajectory, and he sprinted to meet her. If she had the longer weapon, he could stand a chance if he got in close.

He made a slash at her neck, but she slammed her weapon onto his, pressing down until he had to drop it, nearly impaling his foot. She struck him with the shaft, forcing him back.

When Travis fell, he knew he was done for. The poison wasn't working fast enough. His lungs struggled for air as she planted her knee on his chest.

"You've ruined my chances of going home," she said, voice catching. "I might as well do the same."

He grasped her spear just before the point hit his chest.

"That won't work, punk," she growled, breathing hard. Lined with green veins, her spasming hand twisted the base of her spear. Red electricity crackled around the tip.

He waited to be shocked numb — or even to death — but the current travelled to his ring instead, making it burn orange as it charred his skin.

The Career's jaw dropped. "How —?"

Travis let out a battle cry and shoved the spear aside. He lunged and slapped his hand to her face.

She dropped her weapon and bellowed in pain as his ring burned her eye. Soon he'd blinded the other one too.

Then she punched him in the kidney. When he collapsed, she seized his collar and slugged him across the nose. His head snapped back and pain burst in his face as he realized he'd broken something. Blood ran past his mouth, and his ears rung.

She grabbed for her knife, and she really shouldn't have been surprised when she came up empty once again.

He drove the blade into her chest until the cannon boomed. Then he sat back, exhausted and terrified. The Career had been gripping his shoulder, and he quickly shook her off.

Travis had nearly died.

Blood trickled down his throat from his nose, and that shook him from his stupor. He tilted his head forward and tried to wipe his face with the end of his shirt. But whenever he so much as touched his nose, it flared with agony and made a horrifying crackling sound.

To distract himself, he checked over the Career. The poison had long spread past her shoulder and definitely to her heart. She had an inhuman amount of strength to keep fighting while the poison weakened her. Anyone smaller wouldn't have been able to take him down like that.

Travis carefully took off his stained shirt and wiped his red hands with it before dropping it on her, covering the knife. He put a new shirt on and left the body.

He found his original dagger and winced. The ring had severely burned his finger, making the rest of it numb. He was afraid to take it off lest some flesh come with it, so he swallowed a few antibiotics and bandaged the whole thing.

"Thanks, Connor," he said, loud enough for the microphones to hear. "Your token saved my life."

He was too shaken to continue using the blowgun, so he took the spear and made camp in a small ditch he'd come across earlier.

The anthem played, and the sky showed the girl from 1, and then the one from 2 that he'd gotten rid of.

The guilt was rising again, and he pushed it down. Of course, he'd paid close attention to every interview, only ignoring their names, so he knew how much this girl had wanted to make her father proud.

It made no difference. He couldn't think that way if he wanted to survive. The Games were no place to be selfless, and no one good ever won.

His whole body hurt and he wanted to go home. There were still seven tributes to outlast. That was, what, three or four more days? Surely he could do it.

 _Please_ let him make it.


	18. "Trick"

_"Young love," Rick swooned. "This is my favourite. I can't wait to break them apart."_

_President Clair was off doing meetings, but he pictured her beside him, angrily yammering on about how Maria is Bianca and that it meant Nico couldn't be trusted._

_"We're working on it," he groaned aloud. "I'm waiting for a good story, alright?"_

◼▲◼

Percy and Annabeth had made camp in the meadows. It was freezing cold at night, and they bundled up in jackets and blankets under their sleeping bags.

Neither of them felt warm enough to fall asleep yet, so they stayed up talking, drifting from topic to topic.

He confirmed that Annabeth was scary smart. She was really into architecture, and had picked up some understanding of it through watching construction in her district.

She had also seen every single Hunger Games in preparation, and every time she mentioned doing something after the reaping, nine times out of ten it had to do with increasing her odds.

Annabeth was an absolute mastermind. It should have scared him, but he could only be impressed.

They started talking about life in their respective districts. Percy was stunned that District 8 was that bad. People worked long hours. Air pollution hung in the air or blew to District 12. The water was poisonous, and people's hands were always bleached or dyed in different colours.

She held up her hands. "Even when I wore bandages, my fingers still bled from weaving. My stylists took away all my scars."

Percy couldn't believe that there hadn't been a rebellion. Income getting viciously cut when his people didn't catch enough fish was nothing in comparison. Even his abusive stepfather didn't seem so bad, because at least that was just one person. "Aren't the people there angry?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, we are."

Soon she got quieter and closed off, and he tried to keep the conversation going. Maybe they should talk about more positive things.

"Do you have a favourite animal?" Percy wondered. "I like horses, but the closest thing District Four has to them are seahorses."

She suddenly laughed nervously, "Oh no, my favourite is embarrassing."

Percy was confused. "How so?"

Annabeth pulled her blanket out and threw it over them, blocking out any cameras. Her voice lost all giddiness as she whispered, "Percy, I plan to escape the arena."

He balked. "Wh- _what_?"

She giggled, "I know!" Then she went serious again, "Yes. I want to see if it can be done. My mother wanted to start a rebellion, and I want to follow in her footsteps —"

"Rebellion?" Percy spluttered. "Wait, wait —"

"— and I can't do it as a Victor. I'd be a mentor always in the public eye, and I don't know if the president trusts me anyway, with what my mother did. So I want to escape."

Percy was still trying to catch up. He didn't know what he was going to do tomorrow, and this girl was planning a revolution?

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked finally.

"Well, do you want to join me?"

This whole thing had been sprung on him out of nowhere, and his mind had whiplash. "I, um, I'll have to think about it."

"That's fair." She brushed her dirty hair behind her ear. "You could win," she said seriously. "You have a very good chance, so you wouldn't have to risk coming with me."

He didn't believe it. "I'm not great at surviving. Luke burned our supplies and I can't fully rely on sponsors."

"But you're a _Career_. You have enough supplies and can fight. Bryce is most likely injured, right? You could beat him. And... Luke, too."

"You've been avoiding talking about him," he noticed. "You knew he was going to join the Careers, right?"

"Yes."

"Was he the one who decided to betray us and burn our supplies?"

"No," she said. "He did it, but it was my idea. But Silena and Charles — that was him. He also killed our other ally, Thalia."

"Did he... try to kill you?"

"No," she shook her head strongly. "Luke wouldn't do that. We've been friends for half our lives and have saved each other more times than we can count."

"Okay."

"You don't believe me," she accused.

"No no," he said quickly. "I do. He just doesn't seem nice."

"He only — he always thinks the world is against him. That he knows best and everyone who disagrees is out to get him. And Percy, this is the Hunger Games. We're all on edge and need to do things we wouldn't normally do to survive. As much as I hate it... I understand why he did it. And also why he doesn't think my plan is worth risking."

Percy wasn't so sure. "Well, I would rather not kill someone to survive. Tell me about your plan."

◼▲◼

It was morning now, and Percy worried that every tribute had unanimously decided to avoid the tundra, ruling it out as either the worst zone or the one the acid rain would destroy next, since it seemed to be going clockwise. The desert should be gone by now.

So not only was everyone likely in the meadows, but it was also not a friendly place. He had expected butterflies, but there were none.

The grass seemed to whisper more than rustle, and it wasn't really grass either. They were like thin palm leaves that grew straight from the ground.

In some places, it was like a cornfield — so high and dense that an enemy could be five feet away and he wouldn't know. He swore that sometimes he saw faces flash between the grass blades.

His back ached from crouching as he went through the waist-high vegetation. He'd moved his sheath to his right since he had to fight with his left hand now, and its unfamiliar weight put him off-balance. His injury wasn't bleeding anymore, curtesy of his sponsors. But it still throbbed with pain.

And to make things worse, it was _hot_ in the daytime. They'd had to sleep in the freezing cold, and waking up to equally extreme weather was not pleasant.

Annabeth didn't like it either. "It's going to be a lot harder to get to the tundra than we thought. We might have to do it here."

Percy nodded. The fields closest to the Cornucopia provided barely any concealment, so they had to go around and deeper into the meadows.

"Can Bryce do long-range?" Annabeth asked, scanning the field.

Percy nodded. "With axes and knives. He's not as great as Piper, but he's competent. I doubt he'd risk it with a slashed eye though."

"Did you see any bows and arrows?"

"The Cornucopia had a metal bow, but it disappeared. Travis didn't have it when we met him in the forest, so I thought Luke took it."

"He did," she said, "but he left it in the safe house, which the acid rain destroyed."

"Oh, and Piper had a blowgun, but she died with it."

"Did you see the hovercraft take her body?"

"Uh, no."

"Then the blowgun could still be in the arena. _Bryce_ could have it. Cover your neck."

Percy hiked up his collar. He was about to ask if they should do anything else when she flung out her arm. "Shh."

Percy followed her gaze. Through a gap in the grass he saw a flash of blond hair.

He mentally flipped through the tributes. "Luke or the boy from Seven?"

"Not Luke," she said immediately. "Will Solace."

Percy couldn't tell what her plan was. It seemed to be to stay still until he passed, so they waited.

The whispering was getting louder, and Annabeth scoured the place more urgently.

Percy saw black hair in the corner of his eye, and he touched her arm and pointed. "I saw Nico that way. Twenty metres from where we saw Will."

Annabeth stared at him. "You sure?"

"Yes?"

"If they're that far apart, they're unlikely to be allies. The Gamemakers could be sending everyone here..."

She pulled him along, and they went at a faster pace than before. "Are you seeing this?" she hissed.

He knew what she meant. Suddenly it was like everywhere he looked there was part of a tribute — spear, bloody camo jacket, sword, green cap... he thought he saw Nico twice in two different places.

Annabeth sped up further. "We're getting out of here."

"What's happening? Are we hallucinating?"

"It's a trick," she said. "The meadows aren't only flipped with the tundra. The Gamemakers added the desert, too, which is why it's so hot in the day. Do you know what mirages are?"

Percy tried to remember. "Illusions? They make you see water where there isn't. I've had nightmares about that."

"Right. This is something similar."

The rustling got louder, and Percy had trouble mapping out where all the sounds came from. "It feels like we're surrounded —"

"It's a _trick_. Keep following me!"

He shut up and kept behind her, making sure his hand stayed on his sword.

A dart whistled by Percy's ear, disappearing into the grass. Percy ducked, dragging Annabeth down with him.

They zigzagged through the grass, and he made an effort to put himself between Annabeth and where the dart had come. At least now they knew someone had a blowgun.

Annabeth came to a sudden halt, and Percy balked. "What is it?"

"Luke's ahead," she gasped, squinting through the grass. "He's running away with his sword."

Percy's senses were spiking like crazy. Something was wrong. He yanked out his sword and spun around, barely catching Luke's blade before it hit his neck.

"LUKE!" Annabeth screamed. "Leave us alone!"

Luke slammed his sword into him again, and Percy managed to parry it off. He wasn't as good with his left hand, and Luke had some kind of armour. The combination of all that and his injury made it practically a fair fight.

Until Annabeth kicked Luke's legs from the side, and he went down in a heap. He whipped his sword at Percy again, and he deflected it.

Annabeth lunged between them, and Luke stopped mid-swing. "Annabeth, move!"

"Put your sword down!" she ordered, reaching for it as he dodged away.

Percy saw with astonishment that the grass around them had snaked into the ground, as if to give the audience a better view of the fight. Percy tried to get a better look at Luke's armour. It was made of flexible metal.

"Where did you get that?" he demanded.

Luke snorted. "My sponsors. Where do you think?"

Right. Now was the time for expensive gifts. Clarisse might've even gotten that mythical "electric spear" she kept raving about.

Annabeth was waving her knife at Luke, and Percy realized that she wasn't just preventing Luke from hitting him. She was also blocking Percy from hurting Luke.

Then they heard insane laughing, and the blood drained from Luke's face as he recognized Bryce's voice.

Percy turned when he heard another voice in the same direction. It was a boy pleading with Bryce in vain.

Then a pale black-haired boy burst into the clearing, about to run past them, "WILL!"

Percy seized his collar, ignoring the flare of pain in his injured arm. "Stay here! I'll get him!"

He remembered Bryce's strange determination to kill Nico during the bloodbath. Nico's terrified face and feverish skin only made protectiveness flare in him. "I'll get Will back. I promise!"

Percy plunged into the grass, following the loud rustling and laughter. Then he saw them. Will was on his back, covering his face as Bryce sheathed his knife and pulled out his axe.

"BRYCE!" Percy roared. He sprinted towards them. Bryce lifted his head and turned — in the wrong direction.

Percy slashed his sword in a silver arc and cut through Bryce's arm.

Cut through the mirage.

The scene dissolved, and off to the left came the crack of an axe hitting bone. After Piper, Percy knew the sound all too well.

Then Bryce yelled, "JACKSON? WHERE ARE YOU?"

"Here?" Percy called out. Bryce took off running, but he didn't appear anywhere.

It wasn't a good idea to go anywhere but back to Annabeth. He sheathed his sword and quickly retraced his steps, ignoring the noises that made it seem like she was somewhere else.

He nearly slammed into her. Luke was nowhere in sight. "Where's Nico?"

She pointed behind her. "Right here."

"Where's Will?" Nico demanded, peering around them. "Didn't you go get him?"

"I was..." the words died in his throat. "I got Bryce to leave, but I couldn't find Will."

"Then let's go find him!"

Nico made a wild run to the left, and Percy barely managed to grab him. "Nico, _no_. Listen, you can't go right now."

"You want me to leave Will?!"

"I heard the axe," Percy said. Nico's face instantly made him regret how blunt he was, but he pressed on, "If he can't even scream for help, he's not going to make it."

"Shut up! Go away!" he shouted, trying to shake him off.

Percy shook his head, willing him to see through the haze of grief and understand. "Nico, you can't. It's too visible where Will is. _Bryce is out to get you_ and he was just here —"

"I hate you!" Nico yelled, shocking him. He glared at Percy with such intensity that when he pulled out a throwing knife, Percy instinctively let go.

Nico took the opportunity to run, disappearing into the grass before he could move.

Without thinking, Percy gave chase, determined to protect him from Bryce. Nico purposely changed course, and Percy quickly lost him despite his best efforts.

Annabeth kept up beside him, and she ordered: "Lead us back to where you were, and we'll circle it. Watch for Bryce!"

Percy nodded, but he didn't feel optimistic about anyone finding Will in time.

"Here," he said, coming to a stop. "It was here where I saw them."

Annabeth pulled him to the right and they went slower. She surveyed the surroundings. "Will is done for. Isn't he?"

 _Probably._ "Maybe. I heard an axe hit him."

"Why are we running after Nico?"

The question confused him. "Well, we could take him with us."

Annabeth set her jaw, a million plans running through her mind. "That changes things."

Her hesitation unsettled him. "But we will, right?"

"We'll see. Let's find him first."

◼▲◼

Nico dropped to the ground just as he reached Will, who was clutching a wound in his side. It was fatal. Even in Nico's hypothermia-induced sluggishness, there was no question about it.

"Take my supplies and...go," Will panted, wincing. Sweat covered his face, and blood leaked through his fingers.

Will's skin was warm when Nico touched it. He wanted to say something but had no idea what, and he tried to focus.

Something had been stolen from him, he knew. Nico would never be able to figure out his feelings about Will.

Nico held Will's non-bloody hand, wanting to find the right words to say. He wasn't great at expressing his emotions.

Will coughed, and his skin was so pale. "Bryce asked if I'd seen you."

Nico shook his head. He didn't care about Bryce right now.

Guilt threatened to explode into a million apologies that wouldn't make Will feel better. Nico had seen someone that looked like Bianca in the meadows, but of course she had vanished the second Will lost him.

Will's eyes fluttered open and closed as he struggled to keep them on Nico.

Nico touched some of the golden curls by Will's ear, and finally he found some words. "You're the only person who has made me feel safe and warm since my sister."

Will smiled weakly, and Nico felt him squeeze his hand. Somehow Will looked beautiful even at the brink of death.

"Thank you," Nico continued, and he hastily wiped the tears from his face. "If we had known each other longer, I think I would have... _really_ liked you."

Will whispered, "I already do."

His heart skipped a beat. Then the cannon fired, and Nico slowly let go of his hand.

But before his misery could come crashing down, trumpets began to play, signalling an announcement. The timing was such a sick coincidence that Nico wanted to ignore it altogether, but it was too loud, like a hammering in his skull.

Venus Aphrodite cleared her throat. "Hello, tributes! I hope you're doing well. As congratulations for making it to the final seven, I formally invite you all to a feast. But it is no banquet. At the Cornucopia, there is one very special item that I'm sure many of you would like to get your hands on..."


	19. "Survivor"

_President Clair was watching the Games when he came into her viewing room, and she turned and frowned, "Get back in the control room, Richard."_

_"Nothing's happening right now," Rick assured her. "President, it'll be twenty minutes before anyone makes it to the feast. You make me work the craziest hours and I'm exhausted. I need coffee."_

_"Didn't I tell you about Nico di Angelo? I don't care that he's the Capitol favourite and everybody wants to sponsor him. Whatever happens, he does not make it out. Do you hear me? Pour all your attention into him. If he wins, you are_ done _."_

◼▲◼

"Instead of food... we offer you a gun."

For a brief moment, Nico's only emotion was surprise. A gun? In all twenty-three of the previous games, there had never been a gun in the arena, and he thought there never would be. It granted too much of an advantage, and it wasn't great for entertainment since it killed so quickly.

And then came a second surprise: a parachute. Inside was a white pill with a snowflake etched into it. For treating hypothermia, he guessed. It was almost like his sponsors were encouraging him.

Venus continued in that sickeningly sweet voice of hers: "It fires real bullets just like any gun. It's fully-loaded with a very simple design. All one has to do is pull the trigger, and put a bullet in when it runs out."

Nico squared himself and looked towards the centre of the arena. He vowed to kill Bryce, and he bet everything that the Career was going to the Cornucopia. It was his last chance to force the odds to finally be in his favour.

"Hurry, tributes," Venus chirped. "If you are the first one there, the gun is yours."

Yes, it will be.

◼▲◼

Bryce was chasing mirages. He shattered one after another until he found a real one. The acid rain was coming, but he needed a kill.

It was the girl who had set off the bomb just before the bloodbath. Calypso, wasn't it? Honestly, mad respect to her, but now she had to die.

Her eyes widened when she saw him coming, and she sprinted away. He thought she'd be starving and slow, but she was obviously neither. He could barely keep up, but luckily the meadows seemed to be guiding him by bending the grass in her direction.

Swinging weapons was the one thing he was good at, and it would kill him if it failed him. The grass moved on its own, entangling their legs. The acid rain was getting louder. Either it was getting close on its own or they were running right to it.

Bryce swung his axe too far, but he managed to snag the side of her ribs and yank her back.

Calypso tripped and fell. She was quickly on her feet, but Bryce had both his axe and dagger to her throat.

Calypso held up her hands, one with a hunting knife in it. "Let me talk," she blurted, cheeks flushed with exertion. "Before you kill me, let me talk."

Bryce frowned. That was a strange request. He kept careful watch of the knife she held, but his curiosity was brimming, and it _would_ be nice to catch his breath before he properly killed her. "Drop your weapon first."

Calypso swallowed, and she slowly put the blade in her belt.

"No. On the floor."

She looked around once and then did as he asked, and he jutted his chin at her.

"Well?"

She breathed hard, staring at him. Her gaze flicked around again and it was clear that she was only buying time.

 _Oh, this was good_. With seven players left and the bets getting extreme, every fight would be broadcast live. The grass had already sunk into ground, anticipating her death.

Bryce grinned, "You have five seconds."

Calypso stood up straight, radiating defiance. Then she blinked rapidly, overcome with sudden tears. "I have something to say," she said, voice breaking. "To Odysseus and Drake. My two greatest loves. And to Leo."

He lowered the axe. He recognized the second name. Drake was a tribute from the last Games who had a lot of promise, but died suddenly from infection. He had made a big deal about how he wanted to go back to his girlfriend.

Bryce raised his eyebrows. "Let's hear it. But make it dramatic."

And Calypso did. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she doubled over as if her heart was burning. Then she raised her eyes, but what she proclaimed on live television had nothing to do with love.

" _Fuck the Capitol,_ " she spat. "And fuck the president who kills twenty-three kids on live television to keep us in line — but nobody up there gives a shit, do they?"

Horror stabbed him, and he stood there in shock. This was forbidden. The Games had no rules, but you weren't supposed to ever make it more than a game.

Calypso started laughing. "They automatically cut out swear words, but _no_ , a twelve-year-old throwing himself off a roof is allowed. You can chop my head off and they'd keep it in! Just don't eat me!"

Bryce managed to find his voice. "Hey, listen —"

"Drake died and they filmed my reaction live. My breakdown was entertainment! All of them up in their mansions watching us die — how is it possible that the Capitol's bloody hands are the cleanest?"

As she ranted, the grass ensnared her legs until she couldn't move. There was no way the cameras were on her anymore, and no reason for Bryce to put on a show.

The acid rain rushed towards them at a speed tenfold, and he knew that her fate was sealed.

Her words rung in his head, and he left her as fast as he could. Calypso laughed and screamed until the acid killed her.

◼▲◼

Nico saw the gun sitting on the table. A paper box was next to it, likely the ammunition.

Another shape was darting out of the meadow. Bryce was here, and he didn't look good. Brown blood was crusted around one swollen eye, and red-soaked bandages were wrapped around his shoulder and one hand.

They were the only ones racing to the Cornucopia. Bryce saw him and threw off his backpack and axe, leaping forward with a burst of speed.

Bryce was injured and tired, but then so was he. And Nico didn't have the benefit of years of Games training.

But he could make it. He knew he had a chance. But the closer he got to the gun, the less great he felt about his chances. How could he trust a weapon like that? He'd never held a gun before, let alone knew how to fire one.

Venus had said to _"put_ a _bullet in when it runs out."_ Did it only shoot one at a time?

Nico changed course, heading for the backpack Bryce dropped.

The odds weighed on a scale in his mind. A gun in the Games was ridiculous. It _had_ to be another trick. It was another promise that the Capitol would only deliver halfway.

Bryce had the gun now, and he aimed it at him without missing a beat.

What were the chances that Bryce had ever shot a gun? Between that, his injuries, and exhaustion, Bryce would miss.

And so Nico made the gamble of a lifetime. He picked up the axe and ran towards Bryce.

Blood roared in Nico's ears, his adrenaline kicking in tenfold. Every detail was clear — Bryce closing one eye and squaring his shoulders, sweat and blood dripping off his cheek.

Bryce pulled the trigger, and the gun went off with a deafening bang. The bullet shot past him, too quick to see where. Nico only knew it hadn't hit him.

The recoil made Bryce drop the gun. While he grasped his hand in pain, Nico's throwing knife nicked him in the arm.

Bryce yelped and looked at him in disbelief, and Nico knew he had to throw something else before Bryce grabbed a weapon from his belt.

Here goes nothing. Nico found the toy figurine in his pocket and threw it. At first glance it would look like another throwing knife.

Bryce dodged to the side, face twisted with fear as Nico got closer. He had a short dagger in his hand now, but Nico swung first.

Bryce tried to twist away, but the axe bit into his already hurt shoulder. The wide-eyed Career stumbled, tripped, and collapsed sideways onto the grass. The knife fell from his hand and he cradled his wound. "Stop! Don't —"

"You killed two people I cared about," Nico said, deliberately and slowly. "The _only_ two I care about. And who knows how many others?"

"I — I didn't! I —"

Nico kicked him in the face. Blood gushed out of Bryce's broken nose and he croaked, "Please!"

That word didn't make sense to Nico. He could only feel justice.

Nico lifted the axe again and slammed it into his chest. Bryce gagged and coughed, splattering Nico's clothes with red.

" _No..."_ Bryce lay broken on the ground and reached towards Nico. "Let me win," he gasped.

When Nico said nothing and backed away, Bryce stretched his hand to the sky. "Don't...let me...die..."

But the Capitol didn't care, and the cannon fired. Bryce's hand fell.

Then Nico fell down too, the exhaustion of the last two weeks catching up to him. His chest ached from hunger and grief.

His fingers found the figurine on the ground. He had wondered why a total stranger from the Hob had gone out of their way to give it to him, just because he had admired it.

Maybe it wasn't out of pity. He had no one back home, and she was giving him something to live for. Something to tell him that he wasn't alone, and that there were people who would care about him if he let them.

Bianca was gone, but she'd told him about her rebel friends in the woods. Their hopes about salvaging from District 13. Their long-term plans of a revolution. Will and Bianca wouldn't want him to give up when he was so close. He had more to live for than avenging them. The Capitol had failed them, and he could bring justice.

The strength came back to him all at once, and now he wanted to _survive_.

Then he felt the prick of a dart in his neck.

◼▲◼

"Ready?" Annabeth asked.

Percy didn't feel like it. He was shivering from more than the cold, and he stared at the floor of the tundra as if the thick ice would break open under his feet. But he nodded. "Yeah, I'm ready."

The roasted lion meat lay on a plate of leaves on the ground, stained purple and green from berries and grass but looking like poison.

Percy took a chunk with a stick and remarked innocently. "Do you think the meat was poisoned from the stinger?"

Annabeth shook her head. "It's just the grass. We used it to get the blood off, remember?"

"Yeah." He took a bite. "Tastes okay. I don't know what I expected."

He swallowed. That was a good enough act, right?

They ate enough to easily last them a week, and they were just as indulging with water. The two made their movements sluggish and their words slurred.

Eventually it was time to go to sleep. They lay on their sides, jackets thrown over them.

It wasn't enough to fight the cold, which was the idea. Percy pressed himself harder into the ice. The hypothermia was quickly slowing their heartbeats.

They clutched their trackers in their hands, facing each other. Because of the slash in his arm, Percy's was easy to take out. He had to cut out Annabeth's under a blanket while she bit down on a rope to keep herself quiet.

She shivered and smiled. "By the way, Percy... my favourite animal is the owl."

He stretched out his hand, and she took it. Together they let their eyes fall closed.

Percy kept what he prayed wasn't his last image of Annabeth in his mind.

◼▲◼

Travis lowered the blowgun and scoped out his next victim. There was no one around, but he stayed for a few hours, watching the mouth of the Cornucopia.

Two more cannons boomed, and he knew there was only one other player left.

He could hear the acid rain raging through all four areas, pushing the last tribute towards the centre.

Travis debated taking the gun for himself, even though he wouldn't use it over his blowgun, and going in the Cornucopia. But he had to trust that the person would go for it eventually, and then Travis could shoot them with a dart.

If he revealed himself by running to the centre, he'd lose the advantage of a surprise shot. And after what happened with Clarisse, he really didn't want a tribute to come into the Cornucopia and kill him before the poison took effect. Distance was the best plan, especially if it was Percy or Luke who made it.

Then a figure appeared right by the mouth of the Cornucopia, having snuck along the side, out of view.

Finally, it was going to be over. Travis aimed at the neck and fired.

The little dart bounced off their clothes and plunked into the grass. Dread latched its claws into Travis when he realized that the guy was wearing _armour_ under his clothes, complete with a helmet.

He cursed and wracked his brain, taking in his situation.

Luke had the gun now and was hidden in the shadows of the Cornucopia. The acid rain was coming, and Travis had just revealed his location.

Travis was not feeling great about his odds.

A fight in close combat would _not_ be in his favour, so that was out of the question. Should he keep shooting and pray that he'll get a chink in his armour?

He didn't want to make the same mistake he made with Clarisse. He needed to guarantee his own win, not leave his fate up to chance.

The acid rain had made it to the plain. He could hear the change in noise as it neared them.

Travis ran around the edge of the plain, through the tundra, shoes digging into the ice. Then he ran straight across the grass and stopped by the side of the Cornucopia.

Panic threatened to paralyze him, until he put his hand on the gold horn and saw his chance.

The sun had softened the horn, and when he stabbed it with his spear the tip went in an inch. He twisted the base, and red electricity blasted across the metal surface in a split-second wave.

And Luke, covered in metal and sweat inside, screamed in pain.

Travis left the spear and picked up Bryce's axe from the lifeless boy from 12.

Luke was gasping on the floor, covering his neck and reaching for his sword. Travis slammed the axe into his underarm, the only uncovered part. Luke fell back and screamed, but he was still very much alive.

Travis dropped the axe and grabbed the sword — the last weapon he hadn't taken from the Careers — and drove it through the gap in the armour at the throat.

Luke's face was hard to see under the helmet, and Travis didn't want to look anyway.

He left the sword in and leaned against the wall, wiping blood off his hands and waiting. And waiting.

The rain shut off and the cannon fired. Trumpets blared as Travis walked out of the Cornucopia and stood by the corpse of the boy from 12. The kid's face was a mess of red eyes and purple veins.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Venus exclaimed. "I am pleased to present the victor of the Twenty-fourth Hunger Games, Travis Stoll! I give you — the tribute of District Six!"

The live celebrations of the Capitol crowd roared through speakers set up around the field, and Travis stepped over the body.

The hovercraft appeared to take him home, back to Connor. If only he could get his old self back, too.

But for now, he was free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how do you feel about the ending of the games? let me know!  
> there will be an epilogue btw!


	20. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait!! college took up a lottt of my brain and i think i rewrote this ten times.  
> anyways, happy new year, and i hope you like the epilogue!! ♥

Retrieving the throwing knife from under his bandages without squirming too much was difficult, but Percy managed it.

He slit a hole in the side of the black rubber body bag then hid the knife under him. He breathed in the cool air. It had the odd smell of metal and disinfectant, but he welcomed it all the same. 

He and Annabeth had been picked up separately, which he had known would be the most likely scenario. It meant laying there by himself like a cold corpse, waiting for the hovercraft to land in District 4.

The plan had sounded crazy, but there were no hitches so far. She'd told him about seeing dead tributes getting delivered back home. They were never cleaned, preserved, or put back together. Trackers were deactivated but not taken out, and sometimes tokens or food would still be in the pockets.

He had never seen a dead tribute back at District 4, but he did hear talk that their bodies were pretty much untouched, so he was able to confirm her suspicions. Their bodies wouldn't be examined closely.

Footsteps sounded on the floor, and a voice said: "I got it."

It was his mentor, Mestrius. Since District 4 had no male victor yet, Percy got some twenty-year-old from the Capitol Academy with bleached silver hair. They didn't exactly bond, but he was nice enough. Still, it could be disastrous if Mestrius caught him.

The zipper got tugged down, and light seared through his eyelids, painting them red. Percy made an effort not to move his pupils.

"Good lord," Mestrius muttered. Metal brushed his arm, and there were a few beeps. The tracker had deactivated.

Percy tried his best to be still and continued to hold his breath. His chest ached from the effort. A shame that the universe never wanted him dead when it was convenient.

It surprised him when Mestrius patted his shoulder. "I'm sorry, buddy. We tried."

Mestrius zipped up the bag right as Percy ran out of air. The footsteps faded, and his deep breaths seemed to occupy the entire silence.

Half an hour later, he was hoisted into the air on a stretcher and carried out. The walk felt long, and he watched the outside world pass by through the little hole.

District 4 was the same. The salt in the air, sun on the pavement, and people lugging nets of fresh fish from the sea to the market. Everyone avoided looking at the body bag.

Then they carried him through a doorway, and he was home.

He was dumped onto the kitchen table. Whoever transported him in left, and he saw a flash of the white Peacekeepers uniform.

The whole time Percy had contemplated how he would do the big reveal without giving his mom a heart attack. There was really no right way to do it.

It turns out his mom was already next to him, silent as a ghost. She unzipped the bag and saw him blink —

Mom let out a split-second scream before slapping her hands over her mouth, eyes wide.

"It's okay, Mom," Percy said quickly, sitting up. "I'm alive. I faked my death. And... I'm kind of cold."

"Percy!" she gasped, voice shrill.

He shimmied himself out of the bodybag and stood in front of her. "Everything's fine. I'm okay."

Mom whispered his name again and smothered him the warmest hug he'd ever received. She patted his hair, crying. "I can't believe it."

"Me neither," Percy said, tearing up himself. He missed this so much. The smell of soup, a roof over his head, Mom's soft voice —

A fist slammed against the wall. "I thought we'd gotten rid of you!" His stepfather had stormed into the room. "What nonsense is this?"

"He's still _here_?" Percy exclaimed, backing up. "I thought he'd be at work!"

Mom sighed. "They gave him a day off to mourn..."

Gabe scowled. "So you're back and without any money. Sally was worried sick all month. What was the point of it all if you still can't pay our bills?"

"Leave him alone, Gabe," Mom said, putting out a calming hand. "Aren't you happy that he's safe?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Sally. It's nothing but trouble for us. Three mouths to feed, and it's not like this lazy outlaw can work. And think of what they'll do to us if he's found!"

"S-sorry," Percy stuttered. "I'm going to leave soon. I have a plan —"

"Damn your plan!" Gabe barked. "We don't want you back, and I'm not getting killed because of you! Maybe if I turn you in myself, the Peacekeepers will be lenient!"

His stepfather seized his wrist and yanked him off his feet, dragging him towards the door. Despite never exercising, the guy was big and a lot stronger than him.

Percy regained his footing and tried to pull himself back. "No! Stop it! Let me talk to Mom first!"

"Gabe!" Mom protested.

"They're expecting us to bury someone," Gabe growled, shaking him before slamming him against the kitchen countertop. "And for the good of us all, it has to be you."

Gabe raised his fist. For a second Percy was frozen. The hundreds of times Gabe had threatened to hit him came rushing back at once, and it registered that this time he meant it.

Percy blocked the blow with his wounded arm, and it was agony. "Stop it! Stop!"

"Let go of him!" Mom screamed, restraining him.

Gabe shook her off and threw another punch at Percy, this time striking his collar.

Then Mom struck Gabe in the head with a tea kettle. Percy's stepfather collapsed, his head slamming into the kitchen table on the way down.

"Oh my goodness," Mom fretted. "Gabe? Gabe?" She got down and felt for a pulse, but the longer she tried, the more Percy knew that she wasn't going to find one.

"Mom..." he said nervously. This was bad.

The two of them stood there for a long moment, staring down at the horrible man who had tormented them for years.

With luck, Gabe was in a worse place now.

Percy had wanted his stepfather gone for so long. He had imagined a hundred scenarios — yes, some of them fatal — that this felt almost inevitable. No sadness or guilt anywhere.

And while he had hoped the arena was the last time he'd see death, he had accepted that in this world, Panem was the arena, and the real enemies were everywhere.

"Are you okay?" he asked Mom.

"Well," she rubbed her arms, "this is not the way I wanted it to go, but I'm... oddly relieved."

"It was an accident," he assured her. "And you were protecting me. Now we need to —"

There was a loud gasp behind them.

Standing in the front door were his slack-jawed mentors. Mestrius backed up into Mags Flanagan, yelping, "Percy!"

There was some scrambling as Mestrius nearly fainted and Mags shut the door and locked it. She gawked at them. " _What is this_? Percy's alive?"

Mestrius gasped again, pointing, "Is that man dead? Wait, is that your stepfather?"

Percy raised his hands. "Yes, I admit it. I might be alive. And I may have faked my death. And yes, my stepfather might be dead."

Mags pulled at her auburn hair, trying to process. "Oh dear."

His other mentor was on the verge of a meltdown. "I can hear the president calling for our deaths this very second."

"Shut up!" Mags hissed. He quieted, and she turned to Percy, eyes welling up, "Of all the people I mentored in the last thirteen years, you are the only one that came home alive. I, for one, am happy."

She came forward and hugged him tightly. "Oh, Percy. I don't know how you did it."

"It was mostly Annabeth's idea," he admitted.

"Oh, naturally," she snickered, ruffling his hair. "You made a good team. Escaping the arena... that's unheard of. You need to be very careful now."

Mom wrapped a blanket from the sofa around him, then eyed Gabe nervously.

Mags walked over to the body, inspecting it. "Well, I'll help hide him. Come on, Sally. Don't you worry." She turned back, "Mestrius, don't cause any trouble."

So Percy was left alone with his mentor, who had obviously put all the pieces together. "You and Annabeth took out the tracker. You froze yourselves to slow your heartbeats enough to make death from hypothermia believable."

Percy peeled back a layer of bandage to show him the tracker hidden inside, not touching his skin. "The lion attack made it easier for me. I had to cut it out of Annabeth myself."

"Oh, that's rough. Why didn't you just — you know — try to win the proper way? The odds were in your favour."

"There was no way I was leaving Annabeth alone. And I didn't want to kill anyone. No one ever won the Games without becoming a murderer. Have you ever been forced to murder a teenager? Someone your age or even younger?"

Mestrius scratched his neck. "No. Um, I haven't."

"Are you entertained by twelve-year-olds getting stabbed to death?"

"Wh-what? No. Of course not."

"Because the Capitol is. You thought being a mentor was trying to save my life. It wasn't. It was you telling me how to become a murderer and helping the Hunger Games exist when you had every choice not to."

He stuttered, "You get a mansion. Fame. It's supposed — it's meant to be rewarding."

"Oh yes. Twenty-three people get their murders broadcasted on live television, but it's all good because one person gets rich off of it, and you get a family-friendly TV show."

"It was my job," Mestrius insisted. "I didn't —"

"You didn't have to take it."

"I wanted to save someone. I wanted to save _you_. I genuinely wanted you to live, I swear. Silena, too. Mags and I did everything we could to get you sponsors."

"And I thank you for that. The antidote did save me."

"Yeah. But I get it. I see what you're saying. And I don't know why — why I never realized."

"It doesn't help that people do volunteer."

"You volunteered," Mestrius said quietly. "Why?"

Percy sighed. "Money. We needed it desperately. My father died soon after I was born. Mom married Gabe, who became abusive. We had to leave, but he controlled all the money. And here, well, it's the norm to train for the Hunger Games if you want a better life. Everyone I knew volunteered. It's normal. So normal that a kid, Harley, volunteered. But it shouldn't be normal to volunteer for a death game."

"And it shouldn't be normal for me to... to prepare you for that death game."

"Right."

"Okay, I get it. I'm sorry. I just thought... those were the way things were."

"It doesn't have to be."

He nodded. "Yeah. Percy, I really am relieved that you're alive. And I'll keep trying to keep you that way. I'll do whatever it takes."

At that moment, Mom and Mags came in, wiping sweat from their faces.

"What did you do with Gabe?" Percy asked.

Mom shrugged, looking cheerier than before. "Oh, wrapped him up a bit. It'll be all right."

Mags marvelled at him and Mestrius, "You two had a nice conversation?"

"Yeah," Percy said. "Now the thing is, we obviously can't hang around here. I'm supposed to be dead and my mom's husband _is_ dead."

Mags frowned, "Victor's Village is a no-go. Too much surveillance. We can smuggle you onto the train instead. With no one knowing you're alive, it's not impossible. Sally will be much harder, but we'll figure it out. Where do you want to go?"

"Annabeth said we should meet at the Capitol. It's hard to get there but it will be easier to find each other. And it's safer than the districts or forests. I'm just not sure what I'll do there."

Mags shot a pointed look at Mestrius. "Why, do you know who that is? He's rich with connections galore. I'm sure Mr. Mestrius Heavensbee can get you a place, or even a job. And don't worry, I'll get word to Annabeth."

◼▲◼

President Clair sipped her martini, studying the lively party from the balcony overlooking her mansion's front yard.

The Victor had arrived a moment ago, following his escort and mentors through the fairy lights and waiters spinning trays of sparkling beverages. His brother Connor was by his side, taking in the sight.

Travis was grinning and greeting guests, and he glanced up and caught her eye. His smile wavered as she raised her glass in a mocking toast.

She walked back into the main dining room where she and her colleagues were holding a dinner party. It was a bore, but at least the tasteful decor wasn't an eyesore.

Zeus and his ever-wandering eyes came wandering over, nibbling on an hors d'oeuvre. He was one of the biggest sponsors in the Capitol, likely here to make another proposition.

"Madam President," he greeted. "May I have a word? It concerns the Quarter Quell."

She scowled, never in the mood for his antics. "For the last time, Zeus, bribes are not accepted."

"No, no. It's a mere suggestion. My boy Minos has worked very hard under you. The mirage was his idea, remember. Now that old Rick was executed, you could appoint him as Head Gamemaker. Who else is doing it like him?"

"Livia Cardew." She pointed her out in the crowd, chatting with the bartender. "I have already done the paperwork."

Zeus made a face. "Oh, come now. She's got connections, brains, and a whole lot of confidence but works by the book. You need creativity. Why not Coryo, by the way? He has all her good traits _plus_ imagination."

"I need someone I can read — someone who will follow orders. Cardew is a straightforward person who thinks of the country, not a charmer or someone who wants to have fun. And _your_ boy is the latter, as Rick was."

Zeus sighed, "President, that Calypso girl was a fluke. A wild card because of her dead lovers. She is not the average citizen. The districts will never rebel again. Listen to them betting on people's lives, sending gifts like they do anything but prolong the massacre. And look at their obsession with relationships!"

"You are describing the rich Capitol. I mean the districts."

"They are pitted against each other — oh, Merlot! Don't mind if I do."

A waiter was presenting a silver tray of red wine. Clair declined, holding up her half-finished martini.

Zeus swirled his glass and took a sip. "As I was saying —"

"I have other guests to entertain," she said coldly. "Enjoy my party."

Leaving the man grumbling behind her, she was pleased to see that Travis Stoll had come up to greet her.

Travis gave her a stiff bow. "Thank you for graciously opening your house to host this party."

The ring was still on his finger, she noticed. And the skin around it did not look healed. Curious. "And how are you enjoying it?"

"Well," he started, smiling haltingly, "the food is delicious. Give my compliments to the chefs."

"You have something else to say," she noted. "Well?"

He hesitated. "So... the mentor thing. It's pretty new, and the job description is kind of up in the air. There's no telling when my district will get another Victor, so someday will I get to... you know, retire?" He tried to joke, "I thought I could relax in a mansion for eternity."

She laughed. "Games only take place once a year. Not a bad commitment. And what's wrong with a little reminder of your fame?"

He swallowed. "Yes, you're right, of course, but... I'm thinking Victors should get a break if they need it. The Games were traumatic, and I'm not as stable as I appear. I already won, so why can't I be done?"

"Travis Stoll, the next tributes depend on you. You shouldn't abandon them. After all, the next one could be Connor."

Travis's mouth fell open. "I... but that... th-that can't be allowed. Madam President, we've both been through a lot. Surely being a Victor comes with special privileges..."

She shrugged delicately, finishing off her drink. "Don't ask me again about retiring. See you next year, and the year after that."

He wanted to say more, she could tell. But he turned tail and hurried down the stairs, presumably back to his brother.

It seemed like a good time to make a toast. She snapped her fingers at a servant, signalling for some champagne. It was when she bit the olive from her martini that her mouth burned like fire.

Scorching tears filled her eyes. The partygoers screamed as she coughed into her hand and it came away bloody.

Her lungs were failing, but she struggled to breathe anyway. No, this cannot happen. It can't. If she died now, Panem would be thrown into chaos. There was no predicting what kind of power plays would happen.

Livia ran for a medic, and everyone else whispered and worried. The first one to her side was a Gamemaker, his purple clothes flashing. He gripped her shoulder reassuringly.

"Try to relax," the man murmured, low enough for only her to hear. "There's no point in fighting."

The scent of flowers filled her last breath. She struggled to focus, and her eyes fixated on the white rose pinned to his lapel. And then she knew who it was.

Coriolanus Snow.

◼▲◼

Percy shivered in his uniform. It was late autumn in the Capitol, and the temperature dipped further than it ever did in District 4.

The last of the cargo was unloaded off the train and into the warehouse, and Percy's night shift began.

It had been a couple of months since his escape, and he had no idea when Annabeth could join him, so he kept himself busy. One could learn a shocking amount of information about Panem and its goods from socializing with the workers.

His job was to patrol the multi-coloured shipping containers. The overhead lights provided enough light to see where he was going but not much else. His flashlight was more useful, and it could also shoo away rats.

One day those delivery boxes would have Annabeth in it. For sure. Definitely. As long as everything went well...

It was frustrating that he had no way to directly contact Annabeth, or even know if she had received their messages. She had promised that she could get out of District 8 on her own, but Percy's brain kept wandering to the worst scenarios.

What complicated it all was that it was too soon after the games to make another risky move. Simply getting to the Capitol had involved a dozen close calls and weeks of planning. The Victory Tour had recently finished broadcasting, and he half-expected someone to suddenly shout, " _hey, aren't you that dead tribute from TV?"_ And he couldn't exactly say he was a stunt double.

There was a rustle to the side, and he jumped. "Hello?"

"Percy?"

He spun around. Standing in the shadows by the wall was the girl he had been waiting for, her blonde ponytail under a blue cap and her expression full of astonishment.

"Annabeth!" he gasped.

They didn't waste time on questions. The flashlight was left spinning on the floor, and she dropped her duffel bag. Annabeth leapt into his arms, laughing happily. All words left him. He had to restrain himself from picking her up and swinging her around. That might be a little too much.

Percy let go and stared into those familiar grey eyes. "You have no idea how long I waited for this."

Her smirk was endearing. "Four months and fifteen days?"

Oh man, he loved being corrected by her. "Okay, I was wrong. As usual. Now how did you get here?"

"Hid in a shipping container from my district, of course. That one." She pointed and then led him to it, looking rightly proud of herself.

It was a big wooden crate and, judging by the label, was carrying new winter clothes and blankets. "The knife from the arena is really durable, so I used it to pry nails out and hammer them back in. I had to change hiding spots every single time someone did a heat inspection."

Amazement didn't begin to cover what Percy felt. "Jeez, I'm impressed."

Annabeth smiled, "I'm impressed with _you_! You got a job! Assuming this isn't a one-time disguise, I mean."

"It's my actual job!" He showed off his work ID — no picture, of course. "A fake identity's more convincing if some of it's real. Besides, I figured you might come this way eventually, and now I can sneak you out."

Annabeth squinted at it. " 'Peter Johnson'. Really?"

Percy shoved it back in his pocket. "It's generic and easy to remember."

"Sure." Annabeth surveyed the place. "Anyways, I don't know what I expected, but it was surprising to find so many labourers in the Capitol. Are they from the districts?"

"Actually no, they're mostly Capitol citizens who weren't born wealthy."

She rubbed her hands together, from chill or thrill he couldn't tell. "Very interesting. So even the great shiny Capitol is divided. We can find some allies here."

"Already did." He filled her in about Mestrius and the handful of fed-up workers he had befriended during his time here.

"This is very good," she mused, nearly lost in thought.

"Can I ask about your family? My mom managed to get here too, and we have a modest place nearby. But I know District Eight has way more security."

"You're right about that. It's too suspicious if my entire family disappears at once. And, well, they don't think they want to come at all. My brothers are really young, so I kind of knew it would happen."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Yeah, don't get a big head. I didn't leave my family just for you."

They walked down the aisles together, Percy swiping the flashlight beam here and there. "Annabeth..." he said, "I really missed you. I didn't even know if I would see you again. I'm glad you're here with me."

She fixed her hair, trying and failing to hide her smile. "You better be, Seaweed Brain. It took a lot of effort to get back to you."

He stopped, and she faced him. He put his hand on her cheek, mouth suddenly dry. "Can I...?"

She leaned forward and kissed him, and his hopes soared higher than the tides.

Percy pulled back, grinning. "This time, we're staying together. You're not getting away from me. Never again."

Her grey eyes gleamed as she held up her hand, flaunting her rebel mother's gold ring. A series of seemingly random numbers were engraved on it. "Two words: District Thirteen. I have a plan, Percy. Are you in?"

"You know I am, Wise Girl."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you for sticking by this story until the end. I have had so much fun reading your theories and reactions in the comments. I'm really proud of this book, and I'm so happy that so many people like it too ♥ 
> 
> also check out Rick Riordan's Hunger Games on Wattpad under @ClaireValdez! it's the same book but with slightly more content lol


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